#grey's rambles

Seven years ago.....

You ran through the centre of town, dodging around pedestrians with every step. Quickly darting around a corner and down an alleyway, you made your way towards a small natural area, a tree on a hill overlooking the river that ran through town. Sitting beneath the tree was a familiar silhouette, and you broke into a grin as you approached.

“Techno!” you cried out, waving your arm above your head frantically in greeting. The figure’s eyes snapped up at your call, sitting up straighter as his eyes scanned around for the source of the noise, relaxing as they locked onto you.

You collapsed on the ground next to him, chest heaving. “Hi,” you said, looking up at him from where you lay.

His lips lifted in the slightest hint of a smile. “Halloooo,” he replied. A quiet settled over the pair of you as you caught your breath. Sitting up after a couple of moments, you again initiate conversation.

“Did you bring it?” you ask excitedly, bouncing a bit in place.

He rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. “Of course I did, chill out,” as he speaks, he pulls a large, leather-bound book out from his satchel, “You know, with how excited you get about this every time, I’m beginning to think that you don’t actually know how to read...”

You swat his arm, scoffing, “I know how to read, asshole. It’s just better when you do it for me.”

“Sure, sure. You’ve definitely convinced me. Absolutely.”

You heave a dramatic sigh. “Just start reading, you jerk. I’ve had a hell of a day, and I just want to forget about it for a little while.”

He raises his eyebrows at you, clearly an invitation to share what you meant, but obligingly moves to open the book to the marked page regardless. You remain stubbornly silent, and he rolls his eyes before speaking.

“Will you please just tell me what’s on your mind and make this easier on the both of us?” he says, meeting your eyes head on for the first time that day. You hold his gaze, refusing to speak, as the staring contest begins.

The silence only lasts for a few seconds before you break.

“My parents have started looking at candidates for my betrothal.” You can’t maintain eye contact with him as you speak, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

He falls silent for a few, long moments.

“Ah. I see.”

“And it’s not fair!” you exclaim suddenly, finding that the dam has broken now that you’ve begun to speak, “I’ve only just turned sixteen! I don’t want to start thinking about the rest of my life right now, not when I haven’t even finished figuring out who I am yet!”

Techno looks at you, expression unreadable, but remains silent. You press on, tears beginning to well up in your eyes.

“What if they choose somebody that I don’t like, and then I’m stuck with them for the rest of my life? What if they expect me to play pretty, quiet homemaker for them, and I never get to see the world outside of this town? What if they’re jealous, or mean?” You heave a shuddering breath, “What if they won’t let me spend time with you anymore?”

You see Techno’s arm reach for you hesitantly through your tears, before he awkwardly pats you on the shoulder. “I-I’m sure that your parents will take your feelings into account when making a choice...”

You sniffled. “Yeah, I guess...” You wipe your eyes, trying to get your breathing back under control. All the while, Techno sits next to you silently, his hand still on your shoulder, thumb running gently back and forth soothingly. It doesn’t seem like he realizes he’s doing this, gaze far away, looking like he’s very much deep in thought.

Just as you’re getting yourself back under control enough to start feeling embarrassed about your outburst, Techno abruptly stands up.

“I need to go,” he says, “I just remembered there’s something I need to do at home.”

“What?” you say, almost bursting into tears again, reaching out for and snagging the hem of his sleeve, “Can’t you stay for just a little longer? Can we read just one chapter?”

You give him your very best puppy dog eyes, but he holds firm, though his expression of steely determination does soften slightly.

“Starling,” You freeze at the use of the familiar nickname, so rarely uttered any longer. “Do you trust me?”

Techno is uncharacteristically serious in this moment, red eyes boring into yours. You find yourself nodding without really thinking too much about it, struck dumb for the moment with the nickname still echoing in your ears. He gives you the smallest hint of a smile, quickly detaching your grip from his sleeve in order to hold your hand loosely in his own.

“Then trust me when I say that everything is going to be just fine,” he says as he begins backing away from you, keeping a hold of your hand until the last possible second, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As he turns around and walks away, you remain seated on the hill, watching his figure disappear from view, becoming nothing more than a smudge of pink in your eye-line before vanishing entirely, wondering all the while what, exactly, he has up his sleeve.

You watch as several expressions flicker over his face in rapid succession. Confusion and wariness morph into a spark of recognition, which then turns to disbelief and hope.

“...Starling?” he breathes out, as though hardly daring to believe it. Struck dumb, all you can do is nod frantically, tears welling up in your eyes, one hand coming up to cover your mouth in an attempt to muffle your sobs.

In three long strides, Technoblade has made his way over to where you’re standing, one hand reaching out hesitantly to cup your cheek. “Gods above, look at you,” he says reverently, “You’re just as lovely as I remembered.”

Unable to hold back any longer, you fling yourself forward, crashing against his chest. He catches you with a surprised grunt.

“I thought you were dead,” you sob.

His arms close around you tightly. You feel him exhale a breathy laugh into your hair as he says, “Technoblade never dies.”

You get a few more blissful seconds in his arms before someone clears their throat behind the pair of you.

“Uh, my liege...?” the new voice says, hesitantly, “We’re prepared to head back to camp now. Will you be joining us, or...?”

You feel Techno sigh against your hair. He loosens his hold on you just enough to turn and face the newcomer, but his arm is still holding you tight to his side. Suddenly becoming aware of the rather large audience there to witness your reunion, your face begins to flush a deep red. You bury your face in Technoblade’s side, mortified. Mind still reeling from the combination of shock and embarrassment, you don’t process a single word being spoken above your head, not really coming back to the present moment until Techno nudges you gently.

“Did you hear a word I just said, Starling?” he asks you gently. You shake your head wordlessly. He sighs again, but it sounds fond.

“We’ll be heading back to camp for the night, and then heading back to the Capitol as soon as we can break the camp down, so probably in a couple of days,” Techno says, and your heart drops. You had just gotten him back, and he was already leaving again. Unaware of your inner turmoil, he continues on, “You’ll probably need some warmer clothes, it gets pretty cold that far north, and we’ll have to have you fitted for a ring, in the Empire’s colours....”

He continues to ramble on, as you pause in your despairing thoughts, blink, and interject his spiel.

“Wait, hold on-- you... want me to come with you?”

He stops speaking, clearly caught off guard, before hesitantly beginning again. “Uh, yeah? Do... do you not want to?”

“No, no!” you hurry to reassure, “I want to! I just—I’ll have to pack my things up... and the house will need to be taken care of. Oh, and I’ll have to let Mrs. Leetch know I won’t be back to work, and--”

Techno cuts off your rambling before it can get too frantic, cupping your cheek with a gentle expression. “Alright, calm down. We’ll get it all sorted, I promise. I’ll have some of my men help you out with moving your things and whatever else you need done around the house, and I’m sure Niki would be happy to help you out with packing your personal possessions.”

“Sire, surely you can’t be serious--” the soldier who interrupted earlier begins, before Technoblade whirls around on him, expression hard and eyes blazing. “Think carefully about your next words, soldier,” he practically snarls, “if you aren’t careful, they might be your last.”

The man gulps. “N-nothing to add, sire. Sorry, sire. I’ll ask Lord Craft to begin mobilizing the rest of the battalion back towards camp.” The man scurries away, throwing a single, fearful glance over his shoulder as he approaches the crowd of troops. Techno watches him go the whole way, expression cold and steely. It’s an expression you’ve never seen him wear before; you don’t like it.

Returning his gaze to you, the expression practically melts off of his face, leaving only gentle eyes behind. “May I walk you home?” he asks, voice a pleasantly deep rumble. You can do nothing but nod, snuggling deeper into his side as you begin to lead the way back to your house.

The windows are dark at the house once you arrive, and Techno’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“Are your parents out of town, Starling? I would have liked to say hello at least before I steal you away,” he says with a sardonic grin. You smile back, a little strained, and begin playing with the hemline of your top, a nervous habit you’ve never managed to kick. Techno’s smile falls, and he takes your hand in his.

When you look up to meet his eyes, he quirks an eyebrow up in lieu of asking you verbally to tell him what’s the matter. You take a deep breath in, bracing yourself. Might as well just come out and say it, you think.

“My parents, they uh... there was a sickness, about three years ago now and they—they didn’t make it.”

“Oh, Starling...” Techno says, clutching your hand even tighter, “I’m sorry to hear that. Have you been alone all this time?”

Again, you nod, tears welling up in your eyes once more. “Gods, I wish I could have found you sooner,” he says, sounding as heartbroken as a man as even-toned as him can get.

Moving slowly, enough so that you could pull away if you wanted, Techno pulls you back into an embrace, and you allow yourself to cry into his shoulder for a few long moments before attempting to compose yourself.

Pulling away from him slightly, but remaining in the circle of his arms, you look to his face and ask, “Would you like to come inside a while?”

Regretfully, he shakes his head. “I need to be getting back to camp before the sun sets or else they’ll worry. Especially Wilbur, that mother hen.”

As though he can sense your growing disappointment, he continues on, “But, I’ll be back here tomorrow, mid-morning, to start getting you packed up and ready to move. Sound good?”

“Yeah, alright,” you say, “I can live with that.”

You pull away from him incrementally, his grip sliding down your arms to your hands as you step away from his embrace, clinging onto the tips of his fingers for as long as you can before letting your hands fall to your sides. It still doesn’t really feel real, like as soon as you turn your back on him, he’ll vanish. You say as much, and Techno smiles, just the barest hint of a thing, replying with, “I know. I feel the same.”

He takes a breath in, and makes eye contact with you again, stepping once again into your arms reach to take your hands, ruby red eyes boring into yours. “Do you still trust me?” he asks, and you tell him you do. Of course you do.

“Then trust me when I say that this is all real, and that I’ll see you in the morning. Now, go inside. It’s getting chilly.”

You allow yourself to squeeze his hands one last time before dropping them entirely, turning around, and walking up the stairs to unlock the door to your house. As you open the door, you turn to look over your shoulder at Technoblade, only to find him already staring at you.

He raises a hand. “Goodnight, Starling,” he says softly, “sleep well. I’ll see you in the morning.” And then he turns and begins to walk away, towards the outskirts of town. You stand in the doorway until his silhouette has vanished into the setting sun before you enter your home, and begin your evening routine.

As you close your eyes in bed, you think back over the events of the evening, and for the first time in a long while, you go to sleep looking forward to tomorrow.

The bell above the door jingled merrily as you unlocked and swung open the door, shattering the quiet of the morning. Heading further into the shop, you start unbuttoning your fall coat, calling out a “Morning, Techno!” to the man behind the bar.

“Mornin’,” he calls back quietly, mouth quirked up every-so-slightly on the left side into a smile. He had paused in his actions to glance up at you when you arrived, but quickly moved back to setting up the espresso machine for the day, hands steady and practiced as he pulled test shots to calibrate the machine.

You grabbed the keys to the staff room from where they were tucked underneath the counter, heading towards the basement staircase with purpose.

“We need more caramel syrup!” Techno called out to your back, “And sleeves!”

“Got it!” you called back, hurrying your steps even further. Down the stairs, through the security door, and onwards into the staff room, where you set down your bag and took off your jacket, popping your lunch into the designated fridge in the kitchen. Quickly switching out your boots for your more practical work shoes and throwing on your apron, you grabbed the items Techno had requested and flew back up the stairs to help the man finish up with the opening tasks.

This was a well practiced dance between Techno and you at this point; you had been working at “Crow’s Roost Cafe and Bakery” for going on three years, and Techno for even longer. The two of you were typically scheduled to open shop together three days a week, and honestly, those were your favourite shifts. It had taken about six months for Techno to really warm up to you, but once you both got comfortable with each other, it was the start of a beautiful relationship.

The two of you had fallen into a routine for these early mornings ages ago– he opened up and calibrated the espresso machine, while you set up the pastry case and brewed the drip coffee. He would then head outside to unlock and set up the patio furniture while you swept up and reset the tables inside the cafe, and then you would typically have ten minutes to sit, have a drink, and chat before it was time to open the doors to the public.

“The usual this morning?” Techno asked, already reaching for the Earl Grey tea bags to start your London Fog.

“Nah, I’m feeling like a Cafe Dulce today, didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Bruh,” he says, switching over to the double shot portafilter and fiddling with the grinder, “I literally do not know how you can drink this stuff, it’s basically sugar masquerading as coffee.”

You giggle. “Ah yes, Mr. Blade, but you’re forgetting a very important fact. I… do not like coffee.”

He lets out a gentle huff of laughter as he quickly measures out the sweetened condensed milk into your glass, then begins pulling the shots overtop, turning away to start preparing his own drink. The two of you fall into comfortable silence as he finishes up with your drinks and tidies the station, before carrying over a tray with your drinks and a croissant to share, and sitting down across from you.

“So,” you say, gently stirring the sweetened condensed milk into the espresso in your glass until it all dissolved, “what’s the plan for today?”

“Well,” he takes a sip of his cappuccino, “Niki will be in around 10 to help you out for a couple of hours until Tommy gets out of class around 1, then she’s got some special orders to work on downstairs. Phil wants me to come with him to the roastery at about 9:30 to do some quality checks, but we’re having a meeting in his office about something first, so you’ll be alone for about an hour, will that be okay?” At your nod, he continues, “Ranboo will be in at 3 when you leave, and he and Tommy are closing tonight.”

“Will you be at the roastery all day, do you think?” you ask him through a mouthful of croissant.

“Nahh, Phil doesn’t think this’ll take too long, he just wants me to get in some more practice, especially with the light roasts, since they’re more fiddly. I’m anticipating being back here in the early afternoon, but we’re running low on most of the syrups and chai concentrate, so I’ll probably be downstairs working on those for the rest of the day.”

You try not to let your face fall too obviously– as much as you love your other coworkers, Techno is by far your favourite to work with, the man’s dry wit and chill personality meshing wonderfully with your own. But, as his apprenticeship under Phil continued on, he was spending more and more time off the main cafe floor, instead putting in hours at the coffee roastery a few blocks down, or in the basement kitchen area preparing house-made syrups and other drink components. It feels like you rarely get to spend any time with the man anymore, and that makes something deep within your chest ache.

Shaking yourself out of your stupor, you set down your now-empty glass and clap your hands. “Well! It’s about time to open this place up, so let’s get moving!”

The morning is relatively steady, but not particularly busy, as per usual. The big rushes in your location tend to come at lunchtime and after work. It gives you some time to get through some of the busy work around the cafe, like restocking the merchandise shelves, and refilling the tea leaves, chatting casually with Techno off and on.

You’re just turning away from the scale used to measure out the drip coffee beans to quickly sneak a look at Techno, when you notice that he’s already looking at you. You tilt your head slightly, smiling softly. “What’s up?”

His eyes widen slightly at being caught, and a very faint, almost imperceptible pink flush spreads up his neck and across his cheeks. If you had been less well-versed in reading your coworker, you would have missed it.

“I uh,” he stuttered slightly, before continuing on more confidently, “I was wondering if you’d—”

“Good morning, you two! How’s the day been so far?”

You turn to the entrance and see the owner of the shop, one Philza Minecraft, just coming through the door.

You shoot him a wide smile. “Good morning, Phil! It’s been pretty good so far, not too busy. We’ll need to order in more vanilla rooibos soon though, it’s getting pretty low.”

“Espresso’s pulling really long today too,” Techno adds, “I fiddled with the grind settings, so it’s okay for now, but we’ll probably have to pull it apart and descale the pipes soon.”

“Alright, good to know,” Phil says, “I’m gonna head down and start getting ready to head over to the roastery. Tech, if you could finish up here and head down, I need to speak with you about something before we head out.”

Techno nods his assent and quickly begins a surface clean of the espresso station, passing along any relevant information to you in his usual calm monotone. Just as he turns to head down, you shoot up from where you’ve been causally resting your back against the counter.

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot!” you exclaim, “What were you gonna ask me, before Phil walked in?”

The subtle blush travels quickly back up Techno’s cheeks. “Don’t worry about it,” he says gruffly, “it wasn’t important.” He turns quickly on his heel and walks away, not waiting for a response.

Blinking slightly at Techno’s abrupt (and rather stange) behaviour, you turn back to the counter to continue your shift.

~o0O0o~

You’re just finishing up with an order when Techno storms back into the cafe, letting the door to the stairwell slam behind him. You exchange concerned looks with one of your regulars as you hand over their drink. Techno continues on through the mostly empty cafe, stopping just shy of the door to put on his outerwear, scowl affixed on his face.

“Heading to the roastery now, Techno?” you ask his back, as he buttons up his coat. He ignores you. Your eyebrows furrow slightly. “Techno?” you repeat, as you begin making your way over to him.

He continues to ignore you, finishing up with the fastenings on his leather gloves and reaching for the door of the shop.

You place a single hand on his forearm, effectively stopping him from leaving. “Hey, don’t ignore me. What’s wrong?”

He turns to face you, expression softening slightly.

“Sorry. That talk with Phil didn’t go in the direction I thought it would, but I shouldn’t take it out on you. I really do need to go now though.”

“Do you want a drink for the road?” you ask, desperate for just another moment with him. He shakes his head, expression hardening again as he looks back at something behind you. He shoots a “Good-bye” over his shoulder as he whirls around and walks out.

You turn around to see your boss in the doorway to the stairwell, expression strained.

“You headed out too, Phil?” you ask, circling back around to your post behind the counter.

He grimaces slightly. “I’ll probably give it a couple of minutes. Let Tech have some time to cool off a little on his own.”

“What was that all about, anyways?” you ask Phil, as you hold up a travel cup towards him with a raised eyebrow. At his nod, you begin preparing his usual Americano Misto. Phil lets out a sigh, letting his head drop back.

“My son’s coming home.”

“Oh?”

Phil sighed again. “Yeah, he moved away for university five years ago, but now that he’s graduated he’s not very happy living there anymore. We’ve been talking about it for a while, but he’s recently started showing interest in helping me out with the shop again, like he did in high school.”

“Well, I’m really happy for you, Phil,” you say, passing over his finished drink, “but I don’t understand what this has to do with Techno storming out of here.”

“Well, Techno is my apprentice, and the understanding we had was that he would take over the shop from me some day. And I’d still like for him to! He’s very good at his job, it’s just… he's very good at the coffee part of the job. Less so the… people part of the job."

You nodded, understanding where Phil was coming from. There was a reason Techno typically handled the drink making, and you, the till when the two of you worked together… he wasn't the most social person, especially with strangers.

"And so," Phil continued, taking a sip of his drink, "I thought that maybe the two of them could split the job. Wil doesn't know a thing about coffee, but he studied political science with a minor in business, so he could handle the people side of things, and Techno could deal with the coffee."

You hazard a guess. "But Techno didn't like that very much when you told him?"

“You could say that, yeah," Phil said with a strained laugh, "He stormed out of my office pretty much as soon as I finished talking."

You pause in wiping down the counters, brow furrowed, staring out the front window. That… was incredibly unlike Techno. He and Phil had had their share of disagreements, but you had never heard of an instance where the younger had literally walked away from the problem without at least trying to talk it out. To say you were concerned was an understatement.

As though sensing your tumultuous thoughts, Phil clapped his hands gently. "Well, no sense dwelling on it. I'm sure we'll get it all sorted in the end. I should head out now though, thanks for the drink, mate," he called over his shoulder on the way out the door.

Giving your head a quick shake to clear it of any wandering thoughts, you turned back to your work. Phil was right– no sense in worrying too much over it, everything would be resolved in time.

~o0O0o~

The rest of your shift seemed to fly by, between the lunch rush and catching up with Niki and Tommy, and soon enough you were handing off your station to head home.

"Have a good close, guys!" you called over your shoulder as you headed for the stairwell.

"Good night, king!" Tommy hollered back, Ranboo opting to just shoot you a wave.

Pushing through the security door, you pause for a moment as soft music floats through the air of the basement. The door to the staff room is ajar, propped open slightly by a small can of paint, casting a soft beam of light into the otherwise dimly lit space.

Peering your head in through the open door, you see Techno, back turned to you, humming along to the song playing on his phone. He's got a couple of pots on the go on the stove, hair pulled back into a messy bun and shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He seems relaxed, fully focused on the task at hand.

Moving a little further into the room, not wanting to disturb his workflow, you quietly head towards the coat tree to get ready to head home, keeping an eye on Techno all the while. You're somewhat transfixed in watching him work, seeing him so at ease.

Techno walks over to the storage shelves adjacent to the cooktop, back still turned to you. Huffing very slightly, he reaches up and grabs down one of the industrial sized bags of sugar, carrying it back over to his station easily.

Now you had helped Phil unpack and shelve those things a couple of times, and they were heavy. You hadn't realized that Techno was so strong until now, watching the muscles in his shoulders and biceps flex as he set the bag down on the countertop. God, he could probably pick you up and pin you against a wall if he wanted to–

Wait, what? Where did that thought come from?

You must have made some sort of noise, since Techno finally looked up from his work and turned towards you. “Oh hey, didn’t see you there,” he said, seeming much more calm than he had this morning, “You headed out for the day?”

“Yeah, all done for the day!” you reply. Silence falls for a moment as you turn to hang your apron on the shelf, before you break it again to mention, “Seems like you’re feeling a little bit better.”

He laughs, but it doesn’t really sound happy. “Yeah, a bit. Still reeling a little bit, if I’m honest.”

You take a seat in one of the chairs to change your shoes out. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Techno lets out a sigh, shoulders slumping a bit. “How much did Phil tell you?”

"Not much, just that his son was coming home, and that he wants the two of you to split the duties involved with running the shop when he retires.”

"I mean, that's pretty much the long and short of it." Techno sighed, falling into a contemplative silence as he gathered his thoughts, gaze distant. You sit for a moment, just observing his silhouette in the dim lighting. He really is very handsome, you mused, tracing over his features slowly. Broad shoulders, sharp jawline, large hands. Bright eyes and long pink hair, roots just starting to grow out. You feel a sudden urge to smooth out the crease between his eyebrows with your finger.

He turns back to the countertop abruptly before he begins speaking again. "Phil originally didn't want to offer me an apprenticeship, did you know that?"

Your eyebrows raised in surprise. Techno'd already started his apprenticeship when you had begun working at Crow's Roost, and Phil had always spoken so fondly of the younger, pride shining in his eyes, you would never had thought there was any sort of patchy history there.

Making a small noise of acknowledgement and interest, you wait for Techno to continue, your boots sitting forgotten on the floor in front of you.

"Yeah, he really wasn't too keen on the idea at first. I'd been working here for about a year, had just finished my first semester at college, and I was miserable. But I liked working here. And I liked learning about coffee– it's a lot more hands-on than my English courses were, no matter how much I love literature. So, I dropped out to start working here full time.

“Phil started teaching me some of the more complicated barista stuff– I had set my eyes on winning the National Barista Championships as my goal at that point, and Phil won that thing twice back in the day, so he walked me through creating my own signature drink, and gave critiques on hundreds of shots of espresso while I perfected my technique. Like, he spent hours in here with me after the shop had closed for the night, practising everything.

“And then the local competition came, and I dominated. Then Regionals. I swept that one too. Phil came with me to every event, talked me down while I had a panic attack backstage, helped me through my social awkwardness while talking to the judges and other contestants before and after the competition.

“And soon enough, it was time for the National Championship. Waiting for the competition to end and the results to be posted was agonizing. But in the end…. I won. And at that point, I knew this is what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.

“We threw a pretty huge party, here at the shop, after my win. It was nice, but it all came down to me and Phil here again once everyone had headed home. He told me how proud he was of me. And I asked Phil if he would like to take me on as an apprentice officially. That I’d done some thinking and decided that this is where my passion was, that I wanted to learn more about the art of coffee, and we had worked so well together, so wouldn’t he pretty please be my teacher?”

Techno pauses here, finally. "And he said no. Said it had nothing to do with me, that he just didn't want to train anyone at that moment."

He laughs. "I had just won the most prestigious award a barista can win, and it didn't even matter any more because I still couldn't have the one thing I wanted more than anything.

"I knew Phil had a son, of course. Even met him a few times. He's nice enough, though he was never really interested in the business, much to Phil's disappointment. I think he was hoping to be able to pass his passion onto his kid, but Wil was always more interested in his music and his politics than he was in coffee. I don't know if Phil just stopped holding out hope, or if they reached some sort of agreement, but he came to me about a month after I initially asked, saying that he had reconsidered the apprenticeship, and that he wanted to take me on."

"And now Wil's coming back…. It just makes me feel like second choice all over again."

The two of you sit in contemplative silence for a few moments. You stare at Techno’s back, trying to figure out anything that you could say that might help him. After another moment, you heasitently ask, “Have you… told Phil any of this?”

He snorts. “Talking about my feelings with my pseudo-father figure? Cringe.”

“Techno…”

He turns to face you again, leaning casually against the counter. “None of this is his fault or his problem. He never asked for an overly-attached and insecure protégé. I clearly am putting more value on the relationship than he is, and that’ll just have to be okay. It’ll be hard, but I’ll get there.”

You look at him in disbelief. How can someone so beautiful be so very stupid?

“Techno…” you stand and move closer to him, meeting his eyes, “that… is maybe the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

He blinks at you, clearly caught off guard. “Heh?”

He opens his mouth as though to continue speaking, but you cut him off before he can. “Dude, anyone with eyes can see that Phil thinks the world of you! I’m sure this is all just some sort of misunderstanding, and I’m sure he would be happy to talk it out with you if you bring it up. There’s no need for you to suffer in silence because you’re afraid of being ‘cringe’.” You put air quotes around the word, and your heart warms when the corners of Techno’s mouth lift slightly into a smile at the action, but they quickly fall again.

“How can you be so sure?” he asks you, expression surprisingly open and vulnerable for a man usually so stoic. Your stomach swoops at being trusted with this side of him.

“Because I do. Every time Phil talks about you, his face lights up, and he has done nothing in my presence except for sing your praises. Even today while he and I were chatting after you left, he was talking about how he just wanted you to be able to play to your strengths in the future. Did he not explain to you how he wanted the split between you and his son to work?”

Techno looks to the side. “I may not have… stuck around for long enough for him to get that far…”

You roll your eyes. Of course he didn’t. “Well, he explained it to me. He wants you to run the coffee side of things, and for– Wil, you said?-- to handle the ‘people’ side of it. He minored in business in college if I recall correctly.”

You place a hand gently on Techno's forearm, moving a little closer. He twists his arm around to gently grasp at your arm in turn. “I know that this isn’t how you imagined this going, but at least give it a chance. Talk to Phil, let him explain. Work on splitting the duties with Wil. Try it out. Please. For me.”

“And if it doesn’t work out?” Techno’s eyes bore into yours. The smell of coffee and spices surrounds you. The playlist has ended leaving only the sound of breathing, like the two of you are in your own little world. His skin is hot against yours where you touch.

“Then you finish out your apprenticeship and strike out on your own. Open up your own shop, run it however you want."

He lets out a breathy chuckle, thumb running softly across the skin of your arm. "Open up my own shop, eh? Not sure how that would work. Who'd want to have me for a boss?"

"I would. I'd follow you anywhere." You feel a blush rise up on your cheeks, but you refuse to break eye contact with the man in front of you. He looks surprised, but then his face melts in to a gentle expression.

Very gently, he sweeps a strand of hair off of your forehead. "How is it that you always know exactly what to say?"

His hand moves down to cup your face, thumb running back and forth over your cheekbone. Your eyes flicker down to his lips, then back up to his eyes. Your heart flutters, then starts beating overtime.

CRASH!

Startled, you whirl around to see Ranboo in the doorway to the staff room, an overturned box of metal tumblers on the floor next to him.

"I uh. Sorry," he stutters, face absolutely burning red, "I needed- I just- Almond milk!"

The poor boy practically races over to the shelf and grabs a case of almond milk before practically running back out again, door slamming shut behind him.

You turn back towards Techno, but the moment has already been lost. He's turned to face the counter again, stirring something in one of the pots on the stovetop. The back of his neck is pink.

"I… guess I'll head out then," you say to break the silence. Techno barely spares you a glance as he says a stiff goodbye. The silence surrounding the two of you as you finish getting ready to go is stifling.

As you walk out of the shop into the late afternoon sun, you ponder what just happened. What was that? Was Techno actually going to kiss you? Would you even have wanted him to?

With a jolt, you realize that you would have. You absolutely would have.

Several things suddenly click into place for you. The excitement whenever the two of you worked together. The ache in your chest when you don't see him for a while. The… kinda weird thoughts you've started having about him.

Oh god, you were in love with Techno.

~o0O0o~

Now that the realization had been had, it was basically all you could think about for the next three days while you were off work. It consumed basically your every thought.

You received a single text from Techno during that time, on the first day of your time off. It read "Talked to Phil. You were right. I'm meeting Wilbur on Wednesday. Thanks" and the high of getting it carried you through the rest of the day.

Heading in to your shift on Thursday, your stomach is filled with butterflies. You haven't seen or heard from Techno since that text message three days ago, and you were very excited to be seeing him again. Maybe you could even discuss what had happened in the staff room that day…

Arriving outside "Crow's Roost", you note that once again Techno had beat you there, light shining out onto the pavement from the windows of the shop. You open the door eagerly, greeting dying on your tongue as you spot Techno… chatting with a tall, curly-haired stanger wearing a beanie.

"Morning Techno," you call out, "who's this?"

Both men look at you as Techno replies, smiling very slightly at you, "This is Wilbur, Phil's son. He'll be hanging around the shop for a few days, getting the feel for how things work around here."

You smile, stepping forward with your hand extended to shake as you introduce yourself. Wilbur's grip is firm as he shakes your hand. His eyes look you up and down, appraising. "It's very nice to meet you finally, I've heard a lot about you from my father."

"All good things, I hope," you joke in return, smiling up at him.

"Very much so," he replies. You realize that you're still holding onto his hand, and drop it as though you've been burned.

"Well," you say, "I should go down and get ready to start. Anything we need from downstairs, Techno?"

"Nah, not today," he replies, eyes focused on his hands as he fiddles with a portafilter. He's no longer smiling, you note.

You quickly head down and get ready, starting your opening routine. As you begin pouring the premeasured drip coffee beans into the grinder, Wilbur comes up beside you. "What are you working on?" he asks.

"Oh, I'm starting on the drip coffee. There's four different roasts to get through, and we only have two brewers, so I like to start the first couple before I put out the pastries for the day."

"Oh, that makes sense."

Wilbur continues to ask you questions as your shift continues–"What's your favourite pastry that we sell?", "Why are the teas organized this way?", "How long have you worked here?", "When is the busiest time of day?"-- and before you know it, your shift is over, and you're handing off your station to Niki. With a jolt, you realize that you've barely said a word to Techno the entire day.

"I'm sorry for pretty much ignoring you today Techno. Wilbur sure has a lot of questions, huh?"

Techno smiles, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "That's okay. It seems like you were handling it pretty well."

You giggle slightly as the two of you lapse into silence. You begin putting on your coat and boots, as Techno settles at the desk with a pen and a stack of what looks like invoices.

You take a deep breath. Now or never.

"Hey, Techno?" you begin, nervously. He hums in response, eyes still trained on his paperwork. "I was, um, hoping we could talk about what happened the other day. You know. With the two of us."

His eyes flick up to meet yours. The tension in the room is so thick, you swear you can feel it suffocating you.

Techno opens his mouth to reply, but before he can say anything, Tommy bursts into the staff room in dramatic fashion.

"BLADE! I FUCKED UP!!"

Techno sighs deeply, rubbing his temples. "What did you do this time, Tommy?"

"Well you see, I, being the massive, big brained man that I am, noticed that the left steaming wand wasn't working so well. So I, being so generous and kind-hearted, decided I would take the cover off and, well, you see, now it, uh… won't go back on? So I can't use it? Please don't tell Phil."

Techno sighed again, even more deeply than before, burying his face in his hands for a moment before looking up. "Bro, how did you even manage…. Nevermind, I don't wanna know. Head back up, I'll be there in a sec."

Tommy nods, tossing a "You're the biggest man ever, Techno!" over his shoulder.

Techno looks at you, something unreadable in his eyes. "I'm sorry, I really have to deal with this. We'll talk some other time, okay?"

You nod, disappointment curling in your chest. "Yeah, some other time, for sure."

He stands and heads for the door, pausing for a moment to lay a hand on your shoulder. He looks as though he's about to say something, when a crash sounds from upstairs. "I really have to go. But we'll talk soon, okay? I promise."

And then he's gone.

You nod to yourself firmly. You'll bring it up again next shift.

~o0O0o~

You do not, in fact, get to bring it up next shift. In fact, you don't get to bring it up for the next three shifts you and Techno work together. Wilbur spends his time following you around like a child would its mother, and he asks just as many questions. You do your best to answer them all politely and thoroughly, even if you are getting a little annoyed that he won't give you a single moment alone with Techno.

~o0O0o~

"What's this thing do?"

“That’s a heat sealer for the tea bags. Since we make each loose tea bag to order, we need some way of holding them closed after we put the tea in there.”

~o0O0o~

“Why does one of the coffee grinders have that red sticker on it?”

“It’s so we don’t accidentally put the flavoured coffee in the wrong grinder. The oil that we use to flavour the coffee would affect the flavour of any unflavoured roast, so to avoid cross-contamination, we grind all the flavoured coffee in the red sticker grinder, and the other roasts in the other one!”

~o0O0o~

"Hey Techno, do you have a minute? We still need to talk about– Oh, Wilbur, no! Don't touch that! Sorry Techno, I'll be right back…"

~o0O0o~

“What’s your favourite drink on the menu?”

“Hmmm… depends on the day, but right now I’m really loving the hot chocolate! You can never go wrong with a London Fog as well. If I’m going to have coffee, it’ll be a Cafe Dulce.”

~o0O0o~

“How does the nitro cold-brew dispenser work?”

“If you look underneath, there’s two tanks; one is full of cold brew, and the other is full of compressed nitrogen gas. When you pull down the handle on the dispenser, it combines the correct amount of both as it pours. That’s why we only sell it up to a 16oz; anything larger would be too much nitrogen in the body at once, could make you sick."

~o0O0o~

"Hey Wilbur, have you seen Techno around?"

"Not for a while, he left about an hour ago. Why, did you need him for something?"

"...Nah, don't worry about it. Here, how about I show you where we keep the extra merchandise for restock."

~o0O0o~

“Why don’t you drink coffee? I mean… look where you’re working!”

“Yeah, it just tends to make me really jittery, and I never really grew to appreciate the taste. Besides, we have so many tea options! It’s what works for me.”

~o0O0o~

“When will we get the gelato in?”

“Not for a while, I’m afraid. You just missed it. We typically stock it from May until September.”

~o0O0o~

"Hey Techno, I was hoping we could talk- oh. Hey Wilbur."

"Hello! So, I was wondering…"

~o0O0o~

“I don’t think Techno likes me very much,” Wilbur announces suddenly one day, about a week and a half after he first started observing around the shop. He'd spent most of that time trailing around after you like a little duckling, keeping up an almost ceaseless stream of questions, and other idle chatter while you worked.

You had taught him how to use the till and package pastries, and he had taken to interacting with customers with an easy charm, bantering with you or Tommy during lulls, much to the amusement of many of your regulars.

The two of you were currently sitting at one of the tables, waiting to open up the shop to the public. You had made drinks for yourself and Wilbur, Techno making himself scarce as soon as his tasks were done. He'd been doing that a lot recently, you'd noticed. You were trying not to overthink things, he was probably just busy doing stuff for Phil, but you couldn't help but get the feeling that he was avoiding you for some reason.

"What makes you say that?" you asked.

"He's constantly avoiding me, and he's pretty much always glaring at me from the sidelines. It's weird, because when I first met him, he seemed a little awkward and closed off, but like he was genuinely trying to get to know me," Wilbur sighed, "I dunno if I did something to piss him off or what, but I'm really not sure this is going to work out if we can't even communicate with each other."

You frown and take a sip of your drink, lost in thought. "I wouldn't worry too much about it yet. Techno's not a particularly social guy– it took him six months of working together regularly for him to warm up to me! Just keep at it, he'll come around."

Wilbur looks uncertain still. "If you say so."

"Do you want me to try and talk with him?" you offer.

Wilbur shrugs noncommittally, and the topic is dropped. But the interaction stays in the back of your mind for the rest of your shift.

~o0O0o~

You wave good-bye to Wilbur with a tired smile at the end of your shift. It had been a busy one, that was for sure. He waves back and blows you an exaggerated kiss, a new little habit of his from the past couple days, before letting himself out the emergency door into the fading light of the evening. You continue down to the staff room.

Head in the clouds, lost deep in thought, you begin going through the motions of getting ready to head home slowly, as your mind continues to race.

You look up from your thoughts as the door to the office opens. There stands Techno, in all his slightly dishevelled glory, looking a bit like a deer in headlights at the sight of you.

"Techno," you say, a little dumbly. He nods stiffly in return. An awkward silence falls over the two of you. You pick at your boot laces, gathering courage to speak.

"You've been avoiding me." You say, cutting straight to the point. Techno avoids your eyes, moving over to one of the filing cabinets and starting to rummage about. He intends to continue ignoring you, you realize. Something ugly rears up in your chest.

"Okay, no," you say, standing up and crossing your arms, "we aren't doing this. You promised me we'd talk, but I've barely seen you all week! What's going on?"

Techno mumbles something you couldn't hear, eyes still downcast.

"I'm gonna need you to speak up and look at me."

He groans in frustration, throwing his head back. "I said that maybe if you hadn't been so busy flirting with the new guy, you might have seen a little more of me." He, in turn, crosses his arms over his chest, chin raised defiantly in your direction.

That response catches you off guard. "I-what?"

Techno levels you with a glare that screams 'are you stupid'. "Oh come on now. The two of you have been attached at the hip all week! You seriously can't be that oblivious– even I noticed something going on there!"

"Techno…" you say slowly, "I'm not interested in Wilbur."

Any fight that may have been in Techno's posture abruptly drains out of him. "You don't have to lie to spare my feelings. I've seen the two of you together all week; you complement each other well. He's handsome, smart, witty, charismatic. The two of you are well matched. Why wouldn't you be interested in him?"

"Because I'm in love with you!!!"

Both you and Techno freeze at your exclamation, but for different reasons. He appears to be processing what you had just blurted out, while you were just in shock that you'd said it at all.

"Hold on, what?" he says.

"You heard me the first time," you mumble. Now it was your turn to turn your gaze to the floor, refusing to look at him. You wrap your arms more securely around yourself, now more of a comforting self-hug than the defensive crossing of your arms from earlier. Because of this, you don't notice him approach you until you feel his hand on your chin, raising up your head to face him.

"I think there's been a bit of a missed connection here someplace," he says, looking you dead in the eyes, "So, you're not interested in Wilbur at all?"

You shake your head as best you can in his hold, your throat too dry to speak.

"And," he pauses for a moment, before continuing, almost hesitantly, "you… love me?"

You nod your head, still unable to speak. Your heart was racing inside your chest. Was this finally it?

Techno continued on, still hesitant and a little unsure. "And. What would you say if," he pauses and takes a deep breath, as though gathering his courage before continuing, "I asked if I could kiss you?"

Swallowing thickly, trying to find your voice, you manage to get out in almost a whisper, "I would say yes."

You close your eyes in anticipation, which means that you felt more so than heard Techno's gentle exhale of a laugh before his lips covered yours.

It was a very soft kiss. His lips were slightly chapped against yours, and you sound your arms around his neck to press closer. His hands, in turn, fell to your waist in a gentle hold.

You're uncertain how long the two of you stand there, trading gentle kisses, but when you finally pull away, your lips are tingling slightly, and they feel like they might be swollen.

"So," Techno begins, "that happened." You can't help but giggle. Even after everything, he's still the same old Techno.

"At least we didn't get interrupted this time," you joke. He smiles, just the slightest ghost of a thing, and brings a hand up to cup your cheek.

Techno licks his lips, as though nervous. "So. Would you like to get dinner sometime? With me?"

You lean your cheek further into his hand. "Yeah, I'd really like that," you smile up at him. You feel his body relax instantly at your words, which makes you giggle again. His grin widens into a proper, rare smile, and it takes your breath away, just a little bit.

"Did you really think I was going to say no?" you ask him through breathless little giggles, and he blushes lightly and looks away. "Techno! I just spent God knows how long kissing you! I literally confessed my love for you! And you still thought I'd turn you down?"

"I mean, when you put it that way, it does sound a little silly…"

You laugh again, and move to lean your forehead against his shoulder, arms locking around his waist in an embrace. He, in turn, rests his cheek on top of your head, squeezing you a little tighter.

You lose a little bit more time, standing with him like that, before you remember where exactly you are, and how easy it would be for this moment to turn awkward if your boss were to come in. Reluctantly, you begin to pull away.

"I should be getting home," you say to Techno, "but when would you like to do dinner?" Swallowing your pride and ignoring the insecure part of your brain that's screaming at you not to seem desperate, you hopefully add "I'm free tonight?"

Techno blesses you with another of his smiles. "Yeah, that works for me. I've got some stuff to finish up here, but I can meet you around six?"

The two of you iron out a few more details as you finish getting your things together to head for home. Techno assures you that the restaurant he's planning on is fantastic, and that you're going to love it. You decide that he'll pick you up from your house and drive the two of you there.

"Awesome, I'll text you my address!" You lean up on your tiptoes to kiss him one last time. This quickly turns into two, then three, more kisses, each one deeper than the last, until you're slightly breathless, leaning up against Techno's chest.

"I should get going," you say, making absolutely no move to seperate yourself from him.

"That would require you letting me go," he says, amused, raising an eyebrow when you put up at him. Though, he rewards you with one last peck, and you finally began to untangle yourself from him, satisfied.

"I'll see you tonight? you confirm one final time.

"Yeah, see you then darlin'."

You begin to grin uncontrollably as the per name leaves his mouth, happiness welling up inside you. It feels as though you're walking on air as you head out of the building with a smile still permanently affixed to your face and a bounce to your step.

You had a date to get ready for.

Fun fact! I spent a little over three years working in the coffee industry, and it shows!!

Another fun fact! Nobody drinks iced coffee in this fic. I just liked the alliteration...

You mother smiles slightly and takes another sip of her tea, apparently entirely unbothered by your outburst. “Well, darling, it is traditional for it to be kept secret until everything is set in stone,” she says with a small laugh, “Plus, have some faith in your father and I; we think you’ll be quite pleased with our choice.”

Staring at your mother for a moment, taking in her secretive (and somewhat smug) expression, you determine that she wasn’t going to break and tell you anything, so you don’t even bother to try. You turn back around and continue out the door.

Heading towards the market, your thoughts are racing to the point that you barely register your surroundings. Almost on autopilot, your body makes its way to Techno’s family’s bookstore, where you step inside and immediately make your way to the desk at the back.

It isn’t the figure you expect that greets you at the back. Fairly recently, Techno’s dad had brought on a young man, Alex, to assist the family in running the shop, and it’s him that’s standing behind the desk when you walk in.

“Um,” you begin hesitantly as you approach, “is Techno around?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, the whole family’s out today. Said they had some big event to get ready for or something.”

Silence falls for a moment, awkward and stifling, before Alex continues, “Can I... help you find anything?”

You shake your head, turn on your heel and walk out, trying to keep frustrated tears from welling up in your eyes. As you go about your errands, your thoughts ricochet wildly between two trains of thought; who your betrothed-to-be was, and what special event Techno’s family could have been preparing for.

Your parents knew you well enough that there’s no way that they would have gone with Jeremiah or Marjory, right? You had certainly complained about the two of them enough. Although... both of their families were fairly wealthy, which would have made them more appealing candidates. Caleb or Matthew wouldn’t be so bad, you supposed, and neither would Josephine or Lillian, although you had never been friends with or spent much time around any of them. The only person you could imagine enjoying spending the rest of your life around was currently missing....

Actually now that you thought about it, what could Techno’s family possibly be getting ready for? To your knowledge, there were no special events going on in town today, no celebrations at any of the temples. Techno was an only child, and you knew for a fact that it wasn’t his birthday, nor his parents birthdays. Could it be his parents’ anniversary maybe...? No, that wasn’t until the fall. A mystery indeed....

Shaking your head to clear it of the spiralling thoughts, you set course for home, errands now complete.

Upon arriving inside the front door of your home, you were approached by your very frazzled looking mother, who immediately chided you for having been out so long, before thrusting you into the bathroom to begin getting ready for dinner. A part of you wanted to snark back that it was only 1pm and that there was no way you would begin eating before six, but you didn’t think that it would be received very well, so you kept it to yourself.

After bathing thoroughly in the bathroom, you proceed back to your bedroom, where your mother has laid out some clothes for you to wear. You put them on slowly, grimacing at the fancy fabric and high collar, so unlike your usual comfortable attire. Taking a glance in the mirror, you’re comforted to find that the clothes fit well, and compliment your colouring; if you can’t be comfortable, at least you look nice.

Your mother enters then, and you allow her a couple of minutes to fuss over your appearance before you shrug her hands off. “It’s not gonna get any better than this, stop it.”

Your mother lets out a sigh, eyes misty. “I just want everything to be perfect for tonight, Gods, my little one, all grown up,” she sniffles, “Now come, darling, let me fix your hair, it’s in a right state.”

You suppress the urge to groan, taking a seat at the desk in the corner and allowing your mother to get to work.

Time passes by both incredibly slowly and far too quickly, and before you know it, you’ve been polished top to bottom, and your mother is leading you down to the parlour to meet your new fiancé. Your father meets the two of you outside the doors, a broad smile overtaking his face at the sight of you.

“You look wonderful, my dear,” your father says, “He’ll be blown away, I’m sure.”

You take a deep breath, steeling your nerves. “Let’s just get this over with,” you say, and your father obliges, pushing open the door. You file in at the rear, gaze on the floor. One last deep breath in, and you bring your eyes up to look at your future head on.

Your heart stops.

“Techno?”

Because that was certainly who was stood before you, looking a little awkward and uncomfortable in his formal wear, his parents flanking him on either side, much like your own were doing for you. His hair was styled in a much more intricate braid than usual, jewellery glinting on his throat and wrists, and his plain poet's shirt was topped with a waistcoat of brilliant blue. That the colour complimented your own attire was not lost on you.

“Uh,” he began awkwardly, all eyes on him, “surprise?”

You could do nothing but stare in shock at your best friend in all the world, and also, suddenly, your fiancé? A static sound filled your ears. Everything was suddenly overwhelming, the scent of dinner wafting from the kitchen, the feel of the high collar around your throat, choking you, the sight of those red eyes.

Feeling nothing other than the urge to get away, you turned and bolted out the door.

Hearing the shocked cries of your parents behind you, you pushed your body to move faster, to get further away from the overwhelming situation you had found yourself in, body moving almost on instinct out the front doors and into the street, towards the only place you had ever felt truly like yourself.

Seeing it come into view, you begin to slow. Walking the last few yards, you collapse to the ground underneath the tree atop the hill, legs like jelly. Eyes gazing over the river unseeingly, mind reeling, you finally allow yourself to begin processing what had just happened.

You weren’t necessarily... unhappy with your parents decision. The biggest thing, was that Techno had kept it from you. Or had he not known either? He certainly seemed to know ahead of time with the way he had responded to your shock. You trusted him completely, and tradition be damned, he should have at least let you know that his family had put in a bid! Did he not trust you to keep a secret?

A few minutes of silent contemplation later, you hear familiar footsteps approaching behind you.

“Thought I might find you here,” Techno’s voice comes gently from behind you. You keep your gaze resolutely forward, on the last vestiges of the sunset on the river, as he walks up beside you and has a seat. You deliberately move a little further away from him once he’s seated, still keeping your eyes locked on the water, and he sighs.

“I take it you’re unhappy with the situation then?” Techno asks, voice uncharacteristically serious, “I can ask our parents to call the whole thing off if you’d prefer. I just thought you might be happier with it being me than some stranger that you--”

“It’s not that,” you interrupt him mid sentence, still refusing to look at him.

“Well, what is it then?” he says, exasperated. “How am I supposed to fix it if I don’t know what’s wrong?”

Finally, you turn to face him. “You knew.”

He blinks, clearly not expecting the conversation to go in this direction. “Uh, yeah?”

“You knew, and you didn’t tell me? I’ve been agonizing over this for weeks! Did you not trust me to keep it a secret?”

“To be fair,” Techno says, awkwardly scratching at the back of his neck, “I didn’t know that the bid had been accepted until this morning.”

“But you never told me that there was even a bid in the first place!”

“I didn’t want to get your hopes up okay? If I had told you we were bidding, if I had given you that hope, and then someone else won, you would have been crushed! I didn’t expect things to move so fast once everything was sorted out, I thought I’d have a chance to let you know privately before the official first meeting!”

At your stony silence, he continues on, far more emotional than usual, “Look, I’m sorry for keeping it from you okay? But you just... you seemed so sad and stressed out when you told me about the whole thing, that I thought if I could convince my parents to bid, then at least there was a chance you wouldn’t end up marrying a stranger that you weren’t even sure if you liked.

“And besides,” he continues on, a little quieter, a little more steady in tone, “my parents were starting to talk about looking for a match for me too. It just made sense to suggest you-- at least I actually like you, which is more than I can say for pretty much everyone else our age around here. And I think--” here he pauses and takes a deep breath-- “I think that I could learn to love you. Like, romantically. I don’t right now, but I think that I could, if you’d give me the chance.”

You stare into his eyes, and find nothing but open honesty there.

Looking away, you mutter, “Alright, fine. We’ll give it a try.” You can practically feel Techno relax next to you.

You scoot a little closer to him, your sides almost touching now. Still looking at your lap, you begin to fiddle with the lace edging on your sleeve as you speak again. “I think I could too. Fall in love with you, I mean.”

Techno puts a hesitant arm around your waist. “Th-that’s good,” he says.

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you for a time, as you lean your head against his shoulder and return your gaze out over the water. After a time, Techno shifts around beside you and moves to stand, offering you his hand once he’s up.

“We should be getting back, it’s almost dark and I’m sure our parents are worried.”

You sigh, but knowing that he’s right, you accept his help to stand, then the two of you stand and begin to make your way back down the hill and towards your house.

After only a couple minutes of walking, Techno clears his throat, prompting you to look over at him. Refusing to meet your eyes, with cheeks flushed a very fetching shade of pale pink, he awkwardly forces out, “You, uh, you look. Really nice. By the way.”

You feel a matching flush spread up your own face. “Oh, thank-you. Um. So do you.” He nods stiffly in return, and you lapse into silence.

Nothing else is said as Techno and you make your way through the city back towards your home. You’re walking so closely together that your hands are brushing every few steps, and after the third or fourth time this happens, you take the initiative and simply grab hold of his hand, lacing your fingers together. You assume that he mustn't mind this, seeing as he didn’t say a word against it when you had first grabbed his hand, and the fact that when you had looked to him to confirm it was okay, you found his face flushed red.

About a block away from your house, Techno abruptly stops and tugs you into a secluded little alcove. It’s dark, only illuminated by a single lamp and a couple dim lights from the surrounding houses.

“Tech? We’re almost back, why did you stop us here?”

He fiddles with something in his pocket for a moment, eyes downcast, before abruptly thrusting a small square object towards you. “I just. Here.”

Taking it from him slowly, he continues on, almost seeming nervous. “It’s traditional to do this in front of family, but I thought you might like something more private. Once you take a look, I can put it back in my pocket and we can pretend that you’re seeing it for the first time once we get back. I just... hope you like it.”

Suddenly, you realize what this is. Slowly and with bated breath, you open the small box. Inside, as you expected, is a ring. Taking a step towards the light to see it better, you give a small gasp when the piece of jewellery is illuminated.

It’s made of silver, gleaming under the light of the lamp. In the centre sits a moderately sized ruby, vine like protrusions surrounding it in elegant swirls. The ruby has a small chip of diamond on either side, nestled in the twists of the vines. On the inside, you can see an inscription, and you tilt the box further into the light until you can read what it says; “For my Starling”.

Techno walks up behind you, appearing relatively nervous. “Alex—you know, the guy who my parents hired to help at the shop? Well, his dad is a silversmith, so he helped me out with making the mould and casting it. I designed it mostly by myself, with some input from Alex and his dad, and--”

You cut him off. “You made this for me?”

“Uh. Yeah? It’s traditional to gift a ring for a betrothal, but if you’d prefer, I can take it back and recast it into a necklace or something.”

“No!” you exclaim, clutching the box to your chest, “It’s beautiful, I love it.” Thrusting the box abruptly into Techno’s hands, you say, “Put it on me, please.”

His eyes widen. He takes the box from you and pulls the ring out of the cushion it had been resting on. The ruby glints where the light hits it; it almost matches Techno’s eyes.

“Are you sure you don’t want to wait until we get back for this part?” Techno asks you, “Our parents might be pissed that we went against tradition and did this without them.”

“Screw tradition. I’ve never wanted to wear a piece of jewellery more in my life, and if you don’t put it on me in the next ten seconds, I will rip it from your hands and do it myself.”

“Okay, okay. Message received, loud and clear.”

Techno gently takes your left hand in his own. He slips the ring onto your ring finger, where it sits, smooth and cold, against your skin. You take a moment to admire the way it looks against your skin, before a thought occurs to you.

“Hey Techno?”

“Yeah?”

“If you didn’t know that your bid had been accepted until this morning, how come you have a customized ring?”

It’s hard to tell in the dark, but you think he blushes again. “Uh, well. I was kinda planning on giving it to you regardless of who your parents chose...?”

This startles a laugh out of you. “What do you mean?”

“Well, like I said earlier, I can’t really see myself with anybody else in this town, so if your parents had chosen anyone other than me as your betrothed, I was going to ask you to run away with me. We’d get married in the next town over, and never have to worry about it again.

“Thankfully,” he’s quick to add when he sees your expression, “it didn’t come to that, so all’s well.”

And with that, he grabs your hand again, and practically drags you out of the alcove and over to your house. His ears, the only part of his skin you can see, are crimson in the lamplight.

Your parents are less than pleased with the whole situation, both you having stormed out earlier, and the fact that Techno had given you the ring without them present. Listening to your mother rant about “the gall of you young people, besmirching tradition like that”, you catch Techno’s eye from across the room, where he’s getting a similar talking to from his own mother. He rolls his eyes subtly, and you have to suppress the urge to smile.

Once everything has died down a bit later, you find yourself seated next to Techno on the drawing room couch. Moving close enough that your arm is pressed up against his, just barely, you look down at your ring again. The ruby almost dances in the firelight, and you think to yourself that you’ve maybe never been happier than in this moment.

Looking forward to your future, you were excited to spend the rest of it with Techno by your side.

It’s a shame you only got a little over nine months before everything fell apart.

The next couple of days pass in a blur of packing. Niki, a bubbly young woman who works for the army, has been by your side throughout, helping you to organize everything that needed to get done before you could leave this place behind. You were very grateful for her help, certain that you wouldn’t have been able to accomplish half of what needed to be done without her assistance.

Throughout it all, you had seen only glimpses of Technoblade. He was busy helping them break down the main military encampment, Niki explained when you asked her, which you supposed made sense, but that didn’t mean you had to be happy about it. He stopped by briefly each day around noon hour to check in on the progress you were making, but with so much going on, you didn’t have any time to exchange more than pleasantries with him.

There were so many questions that you had for him, namely, what had happened to him after your separation, but this was far too public of a venue for you to even consider asking him about it, so you resigned yourself to waiting until you could be alone.

On the dawn of the fourth day, you found yourself out of bed as the sun was rising, just as you had been instructed. The few personal belongings that you couldn’t bear to be without were packed into a small bag waiting by your feet.

You could see a horse approaching in the distance, though it was still too far away to clearly make out who the rider might be. After a couple more minutes of waiting, it became apparent that it was Techno, and you felt your stomach swoop.

He urged his horse to stop in front of you, before dismounting and shooting you a grin.

“Good morning, Starling. Are you ready to leave this place behind?” At your nod, he offers you a hand, which you don’t hesitate to take. He quickly helps you up into the saddle of the horse, getting your feet situated in a set of stirrups, before vaulting himself up to sit behind you.

You feel your face flush as his body settles against your back, pressed tightly together from shoulders to hips. Techno reaches an arm on either side of you to grab the reins, effectively boxing you in, and you feel your blush deepen, suddenly glad there’s no one around to witness your departure.

“All set?” he murmurs in your ear. You can do nothing but nod as goosebumps rise up on your arms.

Techno urges the horse into motion, and soon you’re trotting through town at a decent clip. Having never ridden many horses before, you’re having a hard time not getting jostled around too much, and it seems that Techno notices this, because he once again leans in to speak into your ear.

“You need to let your body move with the motion of the horse. Stop trying to hold yourself so rigidly, just relax.”

Taking his advice to heart, you slowly relax back into him, until you’re leaning your back quite heavily against his front. It is more comfortable to ride this way, you’ll admit.

You can hear the smile in his voice as he says, “There you go, that’s it.”

Pretty soon, you’re hitting the edge of town, and Techno urges the horse into a canter. The countryside flies by around you, turning quickly into woods, before you come into a clearing where the military camp had been.

The last of the tents look to be coming down upon your arrival, and a few men call out greetings as they pass by, though no one stops to chat. The whole place is alive with noise and activity; it’s a little overwhelming.

Techno navigates the horse through the chaos to the centre of the encampment, where he dismounts quickly and hands the reins to a passerby, before offering you a hand to help you down. You miss his warmth against your back immediately.

Just as Technoblade opens his mouth to speak, a smaller figure scurries up behind him and jumps on his back, screeching, “Surprise, bitch!!”. Techno barely moves with the impact, only to let out a long-suffering sigh.

“Tommy, get off of me.” He jostles the boy a few times until he jumps back down to the ground next to Techno, grinning broadly. “Go grab Phil and Wilbur for me, there’s someone I want to introduce you to.”

“No need for that mate,” a new voice pipes up from behind you, and two more strangers come and join your little circle, “We’re already here.”

“Is this them? The infamous Starling?” The brown-haired man peers at you curiously, almost uncomfortable in its intensity. You shy back from his unwavering gaze, just a little.

Techno must notice your discomfort at the scrutiny, because he’s immediately stepping over to you and pulling you close to his side. “Wilbur, back off. You’re making them uncomfortable.”

Suitably chastised, the brown-haired man takes a step away, raising his hands defensively. “Sorry, didn’t mean to make anyone uncomfortable. But you can’t blame me for being curious, ol’ Techie here has been talking about the mysterious Starling for years!”

“Don’t call me that, please,” Techno sighs out, already seeming done with this interaction, “before I regret deciding to introduce you in the first place.”

The others all laugh. You take a moment to observe their appearances, and it’s with a start that you notice that the shortest of the group has absolutely massive, black-as-night wings protruding from his back.

Noticing your stare, the older man smiles and says, “How’s it going, mate?”

“You have wings,” you blurt out, then cover your mouth, mortified. Across from you, Tommy breaks into snickers, which abruptly taper off after getting a glare from Technoblade.

“Yeah, I do,” the man replies, an amused grin on his face, “I’m Phil, by the way. Official advisor to his Royal Majesty here.” He gestures with his head towards Techno, and your eyes go wide.

“Wait, what?” you whirl around on your old friend. “What does he mean, Royal Majesty?”

Techno looks decidedly awkward now, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his neck. “Um.”

“Did he not tell you?” Wilbur asked with a laugh. At the look of confusion on your face, his manic grin grew even wider. “Oh, this is too good!”

“I was going to tell them,” Techno protested, “But everything was happening so fast, there just wasn’t a good time...”

“Tell me what?” you demand, growing irritated with being in the dark. Pushing out of Techno’s grip, you whirl around the circle the four of them are standing in; nobody makes eye contact with you. “Will somebody please explain what’s going on here?”

Techno takes a deep breath in and takes one of your hands, looking you in the eyes. “I’m the Emperor of the Antarctic Empire,” he says seriously.

You let out a short laugh. “No you’re not.”

He blinks. In the background, Wilbur snorts into his fist, only to be promptly elbowed by Phil. Tommy, meanwhile, just looks confused and slightly offended.

“But... I literally am though,” Techno says slowly. You shake your head. Do they really think you’re dumb enough to buy this?

“No seriously,” he says, holding out his hand. There, on his finger, sits the insignia of the Royal House of the Antarctic. The boar’s head etched in gold gleams in the early morning light, and you suddenly feel quite faint.

Looking up to meet Techno’s eyes, you see in their depths mostly fond amusement, but also a hint of... uncertainty?

Taking a deep breath in and giving Techno’s hand a squeeze of reassurance, you utter the words, “Technoblade. What the fuck.”

Tommy bursts into laughter behind you.

“How? How is this possible??” you continue on, ignoring the antics of everyone else present except for your betrothed. He seems uncomfortable with the scrutiny, but still you press on. “What on earth have you been up to since I saw you last?”

Techno chuckles a bit. “It’s kind of a long story.”

“I trust you’ll tell it to me sometime,” you reply, and he nods to you in affirmation, a hesitant smile on his face.

“Let me introduce you properly to the three stooges here,” Techno says, pivoting around to face them, arm dropping back around your waist.

“You’ve already been introduced to Lord Phillip Craft, my most trusted and closest advisor.” The winged man gives you a little wave and says “Please, just call me Phil.”

Gesturing his arm out to the tallest among them, Techno continues on, “This is Lord Wilbur Soot, my head diplomat. He helped secure the peace deal that granted us your city without siege.” Wilbur smiles at you and extends a hand to shake. When you take it, he instead brings the back of your hand up to his lips for a kiss.

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he says with a smirk, eye-line fixed not on you, but on the man standing rigidly next to you.

“Wilbur please,” Techno says, long suffering. At these words, the man’s smirk only widens. You pull your hand away, face blazing, and tuck yourself more firmly into Techno’s side.

“Moving on,” Techno begins, only to be interrupted by Tommy’s exclamation of, “Yeah, my turn, bitch!”

Unperturbed by the interruption, Techno continues on, “This is Tommy Innit--”

“The absolute biggest man ever!”

“—my personal valet.”

Tommy wilts at the description. “You make me sound so uncool, man!”

“It is an accurate description of your job, I don’t see the problem here,” Techno replies. Despite the callousness of his words, there’s a small but undoubtedly fond smile on his lips.

“It’s lovely to meet you all,” you speak up for the first time in a while. You would have said more, but you’re interrupted by the arrival of a man on horseback.

“My Lords, Your Highness,” the man says, bowing as best he can from on horseback, “the camp has been broken down and your carriages are ready if you’re ready to head for home.”

“Thank-you,” Phil says, “we’ll be right over. You’re dismissed.”

The man bows again, casting a curious gaze over you as he rides off.

Techno turns to face you. “Shall we go, then?”

You nod, and your group begins to head towards the edge of the clearing, where two carriages await.

“Can I ride in with you, Techno?” Tommy asks, wide eyed, hanging off of Techno’s arm. The man in question barely seems to notice the added weight, moving along with his eyes forward and a look of fond exasperation on his face.

“No, Tommy.”

“Aw, but why not? You wouldn’t mind, would you?” Tommy turns his big, blue eyes onto you, and you feel yourself being swayed.

You turn to Technoblade to say that you wouldn’t mind, and he rolls his eyes at the look on your face. Turning back to Tommy, who’s looking on expectantly, Techno says, “Fine. But if you pester them too much, I’m kicking you out.”

Tommy cheers, throwing his hands up in the air, and you can’t help but smile at his antics.

You get loaded up into one of the carriages to wait while the others finish up some last minute preparations before you’re off. Techno slides into the carriage across from you, Tommy throwing himself onto the seat next to him; you assume that Phil and Wilbur are riding in the other carriage.

Tommy keeps up a nearly ceaseless stream of chatter, while Techno busies himself with a hardback book he’s pulled out from somewhere. You can’t help but smile at that—some things never change.

Tommy spends the next couple of hours chatting to you about life in the Empire, and about all the places he’s seen while traveling with the Emperor. He talks a little about how he came into service of the Royal House, though it’s fairly obvious to you that he’s skipped out on some of the details, and a lot about his two best friends back at the palace and the antics that they get up to.

Other than disputing some of Tommy’s wilder stories with a snort or a head shake, Techno remains silent, eyes focused on his book. It’s obvious that he’s listening, however, due to how rarely he’s turning the pages.

Tommy’s come to a natural pause in his rambling when his eyes alight on something on your lap. Lightning quick, the boy leans across the carriage cabin and picks your left hand up to examine it.

“Yo!!” he exclaims, eyes alight with excitement, “Your ring is sick!! Where did you get it? Is that a real ruby?”

Technoblade’s head snaps up from his book. The ruby glints in the sunlight, just as bright as the day you received it, and he stares at it with a strange look on his face.

“You still have it,” Techno says blankly, almost seeming surprised.

You blink, uncertain. “Of course I do. I never take it off.”

Tommy looks between the two of you, visibly confused. He opens his mouth as though to ask a question, when the carriage abruptly shudders to a stop. Wilbur peeks his head through the window, saying, “Time for lunch!” brightly, before vanishing from sight again.

After retrieving some bread and cheese from the cook’s wagon, you retreat again to the safety of your carriage. As you’re finishing up your meal, Techno once again joins you. This time, instead of sliding in across from you, he sits stiffly on the bench next to you, arms just barely touching, and you’re instantly transported back to your parents' drawing room on that night seven years ago, back when you first received your ring.

Leaning further into Techno’s side, you rest your head on his shoulder and twine your fingers with his. He relaxes minutely against you, and pulls his book back out from a pocket in his cloak. As he’s opening it up, Tommy pops back into the carriage, and makes a face at the sight of you.

“Wilbur! I’m riding with you guys now, these two are being all gross and shit!”

You feel Techno huff out a laugh, before he finds his place in the book and begins to read aloud. Shifting around to get more comfortable, you end up nestled under Techno’s arm with your head on his chest as he leans against the side of the carriage; he never falters in his recitation during this, voice remaining even and soft throughout.

You close your eyes and allow his words to paint the picture of the story on your eyelids. This, accompanied by his heartbeat and the gentle rumble of his chest as he speaks soon lull you into a state of drowsy contentedness.

As you allow yourself to drift off to sleep, you once again think to yourself that, much like the night of your betrothal, you’ve never been happier than you are in this moment.

Bracing yourself against the wind and rain, you hurry along towards home as quickly as possible. Spring was just starting to heat the days to a comfortable temperature to go without a coat, but the air now was chilly against your bare arms. Shivering slightly, you speed up, Luna trotting along beside you, occasionally looking up at you with a disgruntled expression.

“I know baby,” you soothe, “We’re almost home.”

Practically breaking into a run as soon as your house came into view, you fall through the front door, slamming the door behind you and leaning you back against it. From his place on the couch, your boyfriend looks up at you.

“It’s raining,” you state.

His eyes rake up and down your soaked figure. “I can see that.”

Luna whines at your feet, and you quickly unhook her harness so she could run over to say hello to your partner. Laughing slightly as he scratches her ears, he looked up to you again. “You look freezing, sweetheart.”

Belatedly, you register that your arms are covered in goosebumps, and a shiver wracks your body, the cold air of the air conditioning chilling the already cold water you were soaked in even further.

Walking over to you, your boyfriend strokes up and down you upper arms with his hands. His touch feels almost scorching hot against you freezing skin. “Go take a shower, get warmed up. I’ll heat up some soup.”

“Hot chocolate too?” you bring out the puppy dog eyes, and his expression melts even further.

“Sure, hot chocolate too.”

You grin as you head upstairs to the bathroom. Struggling for a moment with your wet clothes, you finally manage to wrangle your way out of them and step into the shower. The hot water is heavenly against your skin, and you sigh in bliss. Humming a little tune to yourself, you begin your shower routine.

You hear the door pop open, and turn to see your partner’s silhouette through the shower curtain. “What’s up hon?” you ask.

“Don’t worry about it,” he replies, “How much longer will you be?”

“Uhh...” you look down at the shampoo in you hands. “At least 10 minutes...?”

“Okay,” he says, “Take your time, alright?”

Thoroughly confused by this interaction, you hum in assent and return to your shower. Making sure to take some time to enjoy the hot water, as well as opting to use your exfoliator, you emerge from the shower about 20 minutes later. You were pretty sure you had heard your boyfriend come back in at one point, but you weren’t certain. He hadn’t said anything to you if he had...

Looking down, you notice a clean towel sitting folded on top of the toilet seat; when you pick it up, it’s warm. A smile spreads across your face. This boy.

Heading into the bedroom once you’re dry, you throw on some cozy PJ shorts and one of your partner’s big t shirts. You throw yourself down on the bed, snuggling up into the blankets. Luna comes trotting in, hopping up to join you on the bed and curling up with her head on your knee. You pet her head absentmindedly as you snuggle down further into the covers.

The sound of the rain on the roof creates a soothing background as you’re lulled into a floaty kind of headspace, until suddenly, the door to the bedroom is opening to reveal your partner carrying a tray with a bowl and a pair of mugs. “Soup for you,” he says, setting down the tray on the bedside table. “And a hot chocolate as well,” he adds, as he hands you the bowl.

You start eating as your boyfriend sets up his laptop on the bed, pulling up a YouTube video. Neither of you is really watching it, as you idly chat about you days. “Oh, let me tell you about this crazy lady we had in today...” You launch into the story, and your partner listens, watching you with gentle eyes as you gesticulate wildly as you really get into the story.

Once your soup is gone, you settle back into his arms, clutching you mug of hot chocolate close to your chest, letting out a sigh as you’re surrounded by warmth. Luna shifts around to accommodate your movement, settling down closer to your hips with her head resting on your stomach. You sleepily move your hand to pet between her velvet-soft ears, giggling softly as she noses at your hand.

“You sleepy there, sweetheart?” your boyfriend asks. You nod your head, snuggling deeper into his hold. He wraps is arms tighter around you in response, pressing a kiss to your hair.

“Go to sleep then, lovely. I’ll deal with the clean up here.” He goes to get up, certainly to clean up the dishes from your meal. You whine, wrapping your arms around him tightly to prevent him from moving.

“Baby,” he sighs, “I gotta go clean up.”

You shake your head. “Stay?” You once again bring out the puppy dog eyes, and he visibly melts.

“Alright,” he settles back into your hold, “I’ll stay.”

Smiling, you allow yourself to drift off to sleep, held secure and warm in your lovers arms.

Mmmm.... snuggles.

In case anyone was wondering, I was mostly thinking about Technoblade when I wrote this, but also a little bit of Wilbur, and Karl a bit too.

Did I write this partially to show off a picture of my dog here at the bottom? Perhaps. In my defence, she is perfect. Here she is:

“We’re here to look at cats!” he exclaims gleefully upon reaching the reception desk. The volunteer looks to Wil in his enthused frenzy, makes eye contact with you, clocks your besotted expression, and their face visibly softens.

“Right this way,” they say, leading the two of you to a clear glass door. Wil rushes ahead into the room, labelled “Socialization Room” on the exterior. You hang back for a moment, just watching him interact with the cats. A couple have already approached his feet, and Wilbur practically throws himself onto the floor to greet them.

The volunteer speaking snaps you out of your love-struck stupor. “He’s a keeper,” they say with a soft smile. “He’s a keeper,” they say, before walking back to their post with a “Let me know if you need anything!” thrown over their shoulder.

You turn back to Wilbur, who now has a very contented calico curled up on his lap. You smile softly.

“Having fun there, Wil?”

He grins up at you. “Look at all the babies! Aren’t they sweet?”

Letting out a small giggle, you begin walking around the perimeter of the room, observing the cats in their little hideaways. A few moments later, Wilbur joins you.

The two of you tour around the room for a few minutes, looking at and saying hello to most of the cats. Near the end of your rotation, Wilbur lets out a small gasp and beelines to a small perch tucked away in the corner. Smiling again, and shaking your head, you follow along to see what’s caught his attention.

From a little cave at the top of the perch, a small, grey and white face peeks out. Wil holds out a hand and the cat cautiously gives him a sniff, before beginning to rub all over any part of Wilbur’s arm it can reach, purring up a storm.

You come up beside him, reaching out to join in petting the cat. It reacts just as well to your affection, its purrs so loud it almost sounds like a little engine.

“This is the one?” you ask Wilbur. He nods at you, eyes still fixed on his new little friend. You find yourself grinning once more as you go fetch the volunteer. When the two of you reenter the room, Wilbur has managed to situate the cat around his shoulders like a scarf. It was now rubbing its head against the side of Wil’s face, occasionally licking his curls.

The volunteer smiles as they give the two of you a brief rundown of this cat’s history. He was a three-year-old male, neutered, typically quite shy. Had been rescued from the street about two months ago. “We think he was abandoned by people because he had a microchip, but it didn't have an address or any other information registered to it,” the volunteer explained. You and Wil exchanged sad looks.

“Well, we’ll take him!” Wil declared, striding back towards the front desk to fill out the adoption paperwork. The cat was still lounging around his shoulders quite calmly observing the world around him. He stayed on his perch throughout the entirety of the adoption process, until you finally had to put him in the carrier when you walked back out of the shelter.

Looking down at your new cat, then up at Wilbur’s overjoyed face, you can’t help but be filled with excitement for this new chapter of your life.

Wilbur learning you own a cat while visiting you

Newly established relationship, fluff

You laugh as you lead Wilbur by the hand up the front steps to your apartment building.

The two of you had been out on a date around the city when the heavens had suddenly opened up on you, forcing the two of you to seek out shelter. You place had been closest, so that's where you had wound up, running full-tilt through the downpour until you reached shelter.

Up until this point in your 3 month relationship with Wil, he had never been to your apartment. You’d spent a couple of nights over at his flat, but it had never been the other way around up until now.

Opening the door to your unit, your foot shoots out on reflex as you swing the door open, pushing the small figure back inside.

“Hurry in,” you tell Wilbur, “or else Trixie might get out.”

“Who’s Trixie?” he manages to get out as you drag him through the door, but an indignant meow from near his feet answers the question before you can.

Your small, tortoiseshell cat stares up at the stranger in her house, flinching at each drop of water falling from Wilbur’s clothes onto her back. Wilbur, in turn, looks down at her with something akin to shock, which quickly morphs into joy as he registers what he’s looking at.

“You didn’t tell me you had a cat!!” He looks at you in mock outrage, bending down to say hello to her.  She sniffs at his hand cautiously before beginning to rub her face against his fingers.

“Did I not? Must never have come up. Anyways, Wilbur, this is Trixie, my cat. She’s seven years old, and a total sweetheart. I adopted her when she was three.”

Trixie, having clocked on to the fact that Wil was wet, has now turned her back on him with a disdainful huff. He pouts up at you from his place on the floor. “She doesn’t like me,” he says mournfully. You can’t help but giggle a bit.

“Nah, she’s just a princess who doesn’t like the water. Let’s get you all dried off and you’ll be best friends.” You lead Wil to your modest bathroom while you speak, getting him a towel, and tossing his clothes into the dryer. While his clothes dry, you putter around, feeding Trixie at her insistent meowing, and tidying up a bit for your unexpected visitor.

Once you hear the shower turn off, you grab Wilbur’s clothes out of the dryer and head back to the bathroom, only getting distracted for a moment when you see him with just his towel wrapped around his waist. Trading places with him, you slide into the warm water gratefully, finally washing the chill from your bones. After a few minutes of enjoying the warm water, you quickly wash up and get dressed before heading back out into the main area of the apartment.

There’s a steaming sup of hot chocolate waiting for you on the counter in the kitchen, but no sight of your boyfriend or your cat. Picking up the mug, you head into the living room. The sight you see when you get into the doorway warms your heart better than the cocoa ever could.

Wilbur is sat cross legged on the floor, giggling slightly at Trixie’s antics. He was holding his hand about a foot above the ground, and she was standing on her hind legs in order to rub up against it, purring up a storm. As you watch, she proceeds to abandon this endeavour to climb up his chest and rub her face on his. He begins stroking a hand down her spine, still giggling, when he notices you in the door.

“We’ve made friends,” he states.

“I see that,” you say, walking over to join in the petting. Placing a kiss on Wil’s forehead, then Trixie’s in succession, you settle down on the ground next to him. Wilbur places an arm around your shoulders on reflex, and you settle in to cuddle, hand stroking over Trixie’s soft little head. “Hi baby,” you sigh out, a smile curving up your lips. “Hi Wilbur,” you add. He scoffs. “Rude. I see how it is.”

You let out a small laugh, kissing his cheek in apology, before settling back into his embrace.

Outside, you can hear the rain pounding against the windows, but in here, it’s perfectly warm, especially pressed up against your heater of a boyfriend. Trixie has settled down now, sprawled across both of your laps, eyes closed blissfully as the both of you continue to pet her.

You smile and take another sip of your hot chocolate. Truly, this is a perfect way to end your night.

Reader as a cat shapeshifter

Hurt/comfort, meet-cute

You pant as you run through the streets in cat form, looking over your shoulder to see the group of boys still pursuing you. Speeding up, you look around frantically for someplace safe to hide.

You had been minding your business, just taking a late night walk in your cat form, when the group of what looked to be college-aged boys came stumbling out of a nearby bar. One of them had tripped over your tail (which probably hurt you more than him, to be honest) in his stumbling, and had decided to make that your problem, so now you were being pursued through the streets by the group of them. They had managed to get a couple of kicks in before you had begun running, so your ribs ached with every breath.

Spotting a fire escape up a head, you cut to the side, sized up the gap quickly, and leaped. Front paws hit the fire escape, but your back feet dangled for a moment as you scrabbled for purchase against the metal. Hauling yourself up finally, you hunkered down as flat as you could against the landing, hardly daring to breath as you listened for sounds of pursuit.

Peering cautiously over the edge after a couple moments of silence, you were just time to catch the backs of your pursuers heading around the corner to the next street down. Moving about halfway up the steps of the fire escape, you let out a sigh and transform back into your human form.

A clatter sounds from beside you, and you look up, startled. There’s a window right next to where you were sitting, and framed within it was a young man, probably somewhere around your age, with curly hair and round framed glasses. He was holding a kettle in one hand, the other empty, but still poised as though holding a mug-- probably what you had just heard crash down, then. Wide eyed, the two of you stared at one another for a moment, before the man abruptly moved away from the window. A moment later, the door to the fire escape opens below you.

The man’s head peeks out. “I’m Wilbur,” he says, “would you like to come in?”

Unsure of what else to do, you nod, hissing out a pained noise when standing jostles your ribs. Wilbur’s eyes widen as his hands hover over your arms, as though he wanted to help, but was unsure if he was allowed to touch you.

“Are you hurt?” he asks. You shrug, muttering, “”S just my ribs, don’t worry about it.”

“What happened?” he asks, moving aside to let you into the building.

You sigh. “Some asshole college kids were chasing me. Got a lucky shot in. Doesn’t feel broken, I’ll be alright.”

“Still,” he says, “that doesn’t make it okay. Let me get you some ice.”

He leads you through the hallway back up the stairs to the kitchen. You hoist yourself up to sit on the counter, while Wilbur putters around, fetching you an ice pack and a glass of water. “You’re welcome to stay here for tonight, I don’t think it’s the best idea for you to try to get home right now. Let me know if you want any painkillers, or anything else. I can drive you home in the morning.”

Holding the ice pack gently to your side and taking a sip of the water, you survey him again, more closely this time. He looks cozy, wearing soft pants and a knit sweater, curly hair a bit of a mess, glasses slightly askew on his face. He doesn’t seem anxious or awkward with a perfect stranger in his space though, despite the fact that he had literally watched you turn from a cat into a human in front of him. It didn’t make any sense.

“Why are you not freaked out by this?” you blurt out. Wilbur turns to you, surprised. “Freaked out by what?” he inquires, quirking up an eyebrow.

You stare at him. “You just watched me transform from a cat into a human,” you deadpan.

He blinks, then laughs softly to himself. “Yeah, I guess that would be considered a pretty odd thing to see, huh?” He leans his back against the counter. “My little brother is a raccoon shifter,” he explains, “so it didn't register as anything unusual to me.”

You nod your head, satisfied. Removing the ice from your side, you move to stand. “Are you cool with me switching back?” you ask him, “My ribs seemed to hurt less in cat form.”

Wilbur nods, “Yeah, so long as you’re comfortable, it doesn’t really matter to me.” He hesitates for a moment before continuing, a little less confidently this time. “Would it, uh, would it be okay for me to pet you? You can say no, it’s just that Tommy always loved being petted while he was shifted, and I just really love cats, so... yeah. Only if you’re comfortable though. There’s no pressure.”

You suppress a blush. “Yeah, that would be okay with me. I’ll just... do that now.”

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes. You haven’t done this very often with someone watching, and the nerves almost overtake you. Refocusing your mind, you allow the change to take you over, and between one breath and the next, you’re a cat.

Blinking open your eyes, you hop down off the counter and make your way over to Wilbur, winding your way through his legs. He laughs. “Can I pick you up?” he asks. You dip your head in assent, and then you’re up in his arms. Setting your front paws on his shoulder, he supports your back with his hands. You rub your face against his ear, and he laughs.

“Gonna head to my bedroom now, okay?” he mummers near you ear, “I’ll leave the door open in case you wanted to leave at any point.”

Wilbur settles the two of you into the pile of blankets on his bed. You curl up contentedly on his chest as he strokes you ears. He jostles you only once, when he shifts to lay on his side, moving you to be nestled in the curve of his body, under his arm.

With the feeling of Wilbur’s fingers still gently stroking your ears, you drift off into a peaceful slumber.

Hope you liked them! This was fun, I might do more flash fics...

Fun fact! The cats in the first two pieces are inspired by my own. Here they are:

Trixie:

Alastair:

Sighing to yourself, you head down to the kitchen for lunch, already planning a trip to the bookstore afterwards. You had grown increasingly close with Techno’s parents after everything, and typically spent at least a couple of afternoons a week with them, helping out around the bookstore. It was a nice way to still feel close to your beloved, even when he was so far away from you.

Upon walking past the study, you’re surprised to see your parents both seated at the desk, pouring over some papers. Knocking gently at the door, your father waves you in idly, eyes still scanning across the page he was reading.

“What are the two of you working on here?” you ask, trying to peek at the papers scattered across the desk’s surface.

“Nothing you need to worry about, darling,” your mother says, pulling papers towards her and away from the edge of the table. Suddenly suspicious, you quickly snatch up one of the pages from the desk and begin scanning your eyes over it to figure out what’s going on here.

You’re not happy with what you find.

“Are these... betrothal bids?” you say in disbelief. Your mother winces at your tone, but your father’s face is set in steely determination.

“It’s important that we find you an appropriate match, before everyone of our standing has already paired off. I won’t see you married to some lowlife who can’t give you the life that you deserve.”

“I understand that, Father, but you’re forgetting that I’m already betrothed.” You bring your left hand up to your chest, where your ruby ring still sits prominently.

It’s your mother who speaks up this time. “Darling....”

“No!” You cut her off. “You made an agreement with Techno’s family that we were to be married, and you’re already backing out of it? At least give him a chance to come home first, it hasn’t been that long!!”

Your father’s tone is cold. “The boy is gone, child. The sooner you accept that, the easier this will be, for all of us.”

You feel tears begin to well up in your eyes, and internally curse you weepy disposition. Fighting to keep your voice steady, you manage to force out, “He told me he would come back for me.”

Standing up and reaching for you, your mother says, “Oh, my baby...” You shrug her hands off and continue on through your increasingly heavy tears.

“He said he would come back! He promised! You can’t do this, because Techno is going to come back! He has to.” Pausing to take a shuddering breath in, you continue on a little bit more quietly, “What would become of me if he doesn’t?”

The room is silent for a moment, as you stare your father down. He breaks eye contact first, looking back down to the papers on the desk; you can’t find it in you to be happy at the small victory.

“I will be choosing a new partner for you from this pile of applications,” your father says to you, “and there’s nothing you can say that will change that.”

The world stops spinning around you. You feel a sudden wave of calm wash over you—your tears stop, and your voice comes out stronger than before when you speak again.

“I will not marry another. You can accept as many bids as you’d like, but I will marry no one but Technoblade. I’ll walk out of the church before the ceremony if I have to.”

The tears start to well up again as you finally admit aloud the thing you’ve known in your heart all along. “I love him. I always will, and no betrothal bid in the world could change that.”

“Bernard,” your mother is speaking quietly, as though she thinks you will not hear her if she does, “I told you it was too soon, we should have waited--”

“You can wait as long as you like, my answer will remain the same. I will not marry another. Techno will come back to me, and we will get married and live happily for the rest of our days.”

Your father stands abruptly, eyes blazing. “Go to your room.”

“Fine,” you reply, “but if I find out that you’ve accepted any of those bids, you’ll never see me again, and that is a promise.”

His hands slam on the desk, making you jump. “GO TO YOUR ROOM!” He repeats, much more harshly this time. You exit the study without speaking again.

Your mother follows you out into the hallway. Placing a gentle hand on your arm, she speaks quietly to you. “Darling, you know your father means well, and he just wants what’s best for you. Please, just think about it, alright?”

Turning to face her, you reply, “Techno is coming back to me. He promised he would, and so he will. I have to believe it, because the alternative is that he is dead, and I refuse to accept that.”

Removing your arm from your mother’s grip gently, you leave her standing in the hallway speechless, as you continue upstairs to your room.

You just barely manage to close the door behind you before you collapse to the ground, and the tears begin to flow freely once again.

‘What if he isn’t coming back?’ a small, traitorous voice in the back of your head whispers, ‘And you’re alone for the rest of your life?’

You shake your head sharply to dispel this line of thinking.

Techno was coming back to you. He had to be.

With these words on repeat in your head, you take a deep breath and move to continue on with your day, the ever persistent ache in your heart your only steadfast companion.

The castle has been alive with energy these past few days.

There was a ball coming up, you had learned, to celebrate the Empire’s recent military victories, as well as the Emperor’s upcoming birthday.

The Emperor himself was less than pleased about this whole thing, you had also learned.

“This whole thing was Wilbur’s idea,” Techno had explained to you one night when you were getting ready to fall asleep, head pillowed on his chest, with a paperback novel abandoned beside you on the bed, “and I’m fairly certain he did it just to spite me.”

“You still don’t like parties much, huh?” had been your sleepy reply. Techno hummed in agreement to that statement.

“I’ve never been to a ball before,” you had sighed out, “it sounds like it could be fun...”

Just as you were dozing off, you heard Techno gruffly speak into the silence.

“Maybe it won’t be so bad. As long as you’re there.”

Which led you to today, the day of the celebration.

You’d spent the past couple of weeks in various fittings for an outfit befitting of a Royal’s partner, all silk and lace, with a shiny new circlet and other jewellery to match. The clothing wasn’t as uncomfortable as you had feared it might be, and the blue and white of the Empire’s colours suited you well, thankfully.

You were currently waiting in the wings behind the largest platform of the Grand Hall to be introduced alongside your betrothed. Phil was also there, next to a beautiful woman you had never seen before wearing a gorgeous black gown and a veil over her face; Wilbur was standing nearby as well, accompanied by a young lady in a silvery-blue dress. He was nearly bent at the waist in order to be able to whisper something into her ear, which she was giggling at—it was sweet.

Trumpets sounded just outside of the curtains: it was time to enter the celebration. One by one, your names were called out by the steward (“Lord Phillip Craft, accompanied by the Lady Kristin”, “Lord Wilbur Soot, accompanied by the Lady Lyss”), until it was just you and Techno remaining behind the curtains.

He offered you his arm, which you took hold of gratefully, hand shaking slightly with nerves. “You ready?” he asks you gently.

“As I’ll ever be,” you reply, giving him a nervous smile.

“They’ll love you,” he’s quick to reassure, “and if they don’t I’ll have them executed.”

You laugh, but he doesn’t look like he’s joking.

Before you have a chance to try and unpack that any further, your names are being called, and Techno is leading you out into the bright lights of the Grand Hall. People are applauding, but you can barely hear it over the roaring in your ears.

Techno leads you down the stairs to the centre of the dance floor. It seems this must have been some sort of cue, because once the two of you are settled into place, other couples begin swarming the area as well. You end up between Wilbur and his partner (who gives you a little smile and a wave), and an older couple dressed in ostentatious outfits covered in feathers.

The music begins, and you scramble desperately to remember your childhood dance lessons. Techno had been your partner back then, too, you remember suddenly, and a wave of nostalgia washes over you so strongly that you almost stumble. If it weren’t for Techno’s grip on you, you would have.

Techno’s arm around your waist tightens. “You okay there, Starling?”

“Yeah, I’m all good,” you smile up at him, “just remembering when we first learned how to dance.”

He chuckles and replies, “Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Feels like a lifetime ago at this point.”

“You’re much better at it now than you were back then.”

“I didn’t have much of a choice other than to learn.”

A brief pause falls over the pair of you, before Techno speaks up again, tone a little hesitant and awkward, “You look breathtaking tonight.”

You feel your cheeks blaze into a blush, butterflies erupting in your stomach. “Thank you,” you reply, “It’s a good thing that Empire blue suits my colouring.”

He hums. “I think you’d look even better in red.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

You once again lapse into a comfortable silence. Techno’s hand is warm on your waist as the two of you continue to make your way around the dance floor. His hair is pulled back in an elegant updo, and his many interconnected earrings flash in the flickering light of the ballroom. Your heart flutters, and you feel like a teenager all over again.

As the music begins to draw to a close, his eyes, glowing redder than usual in this lighting, flicker down to your mouth. The flutter in your heart picks up into a consistent pounding, and the butterflies turn into a storm.

Techno’s arm pulls you ever so slightly closer to him as the music fades away, and it feels like you’re the only people in the room.

You’re very abruptly reminded that this is not the case, when the pair of you are absolutely swarmed by well wishers the instant that the last notes of the violin have finished ringing out through the Grand Hall.

Techno does his best to keep a grip on your hand, but despite his best efforts, you’re swept away by the mob. You shoot him a smile and a wave from near the back of the crowd, and begin making your way over to the refreshment tables on the far side of the room. As you’re walking away, you can hear Techno’s voice rise above the noise of the Hall, sounding distinctly uncomfortable, and your heart squeezes that you can’t be with him to help.

After a brief stop to peruse the food and beverages on offer, you grab yourself a flute of champagne and a small chocolate tart, and continue making your way around the perimeter of the room, looking for a less crowded place to stand and eat your treat.

Nobody pays you much mind as you make your way through the crowd. You spot Phil and his mysterious companion on the far side of the ballroom, and wave briefly to Tommy where he stands with the rest of the servants near the main castle doorway. 

You eventually settle in a relatively isolated corner of the room, body mostly hidden in the shadow of a grand tapestry. 

As you take the first bite of your tart, the ensemble begins warming up their instruments for the next dance. You scan the crowd for Techno, and find him still surrounded, looking, at least to your eyes, like he would rather be anywhere else. 

You sigh. Looks like no more dancing for you for the foreseeable future. 

As the music returns full force, you idly watch the passing couples as they twirl passed. Wilbur and his partner glide by you, her pale blue skirt flashing silver where the material catches the light as he spins her around. You can't help but smile at the joy on their faces, even as your chest pangs slightly in jealousy.

Your silent contemplation is suddenly interrupted by a shadow looming over you to the left. You turn, startled, to see an unfamiliar face leering at you.

"May I have this dance?" he holds out a hand, cocky smirk still affixed on his face, as though he can't even fathom the idea that you would say no. 

"No thank you, I'm not interested."

The man scoffs, leaning further into your space, and your shoulders hike up instinctively. "Oh, c'mon honey, don't be like that…." You can smell the alcohol on his breath as it wafts over you.

"Thank you for the offer, but I'm really not interested." Sensing that this won't be enough to make him back down, you tack on, "I don't think that my betrothed would be very happy to hear you pressuring me to dance with you."

The man opens his mouth to reply, but before he can get a word out, a throat clears behind him.

“Is everything alright over here?”

You’ve never been more relieved to see Techno in your life. 

“Nothing you need to be concerned about, Majesty,” the man says with a sneer. Techno eyes him up and down, expression stony.

“Thanks, but I wasn’t actually talking to you,” Techno replies coldly, before his garnet eyes meet your own, expression visibly softening. “Are you okay, Starling?”

He holds a hand out towards you, and you don’t hesitate to take it. You’re quickly tugged away from the other man and tucked tightly into Techno’s side. You push yourself as close to him as you can possibly get, body relaxing instinctively into his warmth.

The other man has the audacity to laugh. Techno’s grip on you tightens. “Oh, honey, really? This is your betrothed?”

He takes a stumbling step forwards, and Techno instinctively shifts so that your body is partially shielded behind his own. Across the Hall, you can see Phil beginning to make his way over to where you’re standing, and Wilbur appears to be making his way over slowly, as well, as the music again fades out.

“Are we going to have a problem?” Techno asks, voice low and dangerous, hand moving to rest on the pommel of his sword. You had thought it was there purely for decoration, but apparently not.

The other man’s eyes stray towards the weapon, and he clearly isn’t drunk enough to think that fighting the Emperor is a good idea, because he takes a step back, hands raised in an ‘I surrender’. “No, Sire,” he says the honorific as though it is a slur, “I was just surprised to hear that someone like you had managed to snag someone so lovely to be your partner.”

Techno goes very still beside you.

Before either of you can add anything to the conversation, the man continues on, his eyes locked onto yours this time. “Tell me honey, do you know about what your betrothed really is? Has he told you about all the people he’s killed? The cities he’s burned in the name of the Blood God?” The man lets out an almost deranged laugh, “Let’s face it Your Majesty, no matter how much you hide behind your military accolades, and your holier-than-thou front, everyone here knows that you’re nothing but a monster.”

Time feels like it freezes for a moment, as the small group of you standing there process the words that were just spoken.

Several things happen in rapid succession, then.

Tommy appears, seemingly out of nowhere, jumping onto the man’s back, screaming “YOU BITCH” at the top of his lungs, as the man flails trying to get him off. More people jump into the fray in an attempt to separate the pair, a few strangers, but also a few familiar faces, Techno among them. 

“Guards!” he yells out, and six members of his Royal Guard, including Captain Dream, come storming into the scene. You very quickly find yourself sidelined, standing near the mysterious Lady that was accompanying Phil this evening– she gives you a small smile from underneath her veil.

The man is very quickly subdued, what with six guards, the Emperor himself, and an irate teenager all attempting to bring him down (although that last one was more a hindrance than a help; Tommy himself needing to be restrained by a put-upon looking Sapnap to stop him from jumping the man all over again).

The man sneers up at Techno from where he’s being held, kneeling, by two guards. Technoblade’s face appears impassive as he looks down at the man. Backlit by one of the hanging lamps that line the walls, he looks like some sort of avenging angel, here to pass judgement on the man kneeling before him.

Techno regards the man for another moment. Silence reigns in the ballroom, the scuffle having drawn the attention of the other guests present, as all in witness wait in anticipation to hear what the Emperor will decide.

“Take him away,” Techno says, face remaining a stony mask. The guards begin moving towards the doorway, hauling the man between them, and Techno turns away from the sight. 

The man makes eye contact with you as he’s being dragged past. “I’d be careful if I was you, honey,” he spits, “getting too close to a monster like that thing can only end poorly for you.” 

You scoff at him, turning away, and he laughs derisively. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” are his parting words, as the guards finally reach the grand doors leading out of the Hall.

The silence continues for another couple of moments once the doors close behind them. Your eyes search for Techno in the crowd, and you find him quickly, still facing away from the crowd, shoulders visibly tensed. 

The crowd unfreezes after a moment, and you quickly find yourself swarmed by a crowd of nobles, all of whom you’ve never met before. 

“That must have been so scary,” a lady practically squeals in your ear, and you step away from her on instinct, only to bump into a gentleman just behind her, who immediately begins grilling you for information about what happened before everyone’s attention had been drawn in by the fight. 

After a minute, you manage to extract yourself from the situation, scanning the crowd wildly for Techno, but you can see no sign of him anywhere in the vicinity. Turning slowly in a circle, your eyes continue searching for your betrothed in the crowd. You spot Tommy, speaking angrily to Sapnap, while he stands there, looking exasperated at this turn of events. Phil is in the corner where you last remember seeing Techno, speaking very seriously to his mysterious companion. So many people, all in colourful party clothes swim past your eyes, but none of them the one you’re searching for. 

A tap on your shoulder jolts you out of your focused search, and you turn around, startled, to see Wilbur’s companion standing there, a sympathetic look in her eyes. 

“He went that way,” she says, pointing to the tapestry on the Northernmost wall of the Grand Hall. At your look of confusion, she clarifies, “There’s a secret passage behind there that leads up to some of the galleries on the next floor up. Not many people know about it, so it’s a pretty easy escape route.”

Expressing your gratitude quickly, you begin making your way towards the tapestry. Lady Lyss calls out “Good luck!” to your back, and you shoot her a final smile over your shoulder, before slipping behind the tapestry and into the secret passage.

It’s surprisingly clean and well lit for something that’s supposed to be a relatively well kept secret, but you quickly shake free of that train of thought, and follow the short hallway down to a spiraling staircase up to the next floor.

Carrie if you’re reading this I love you <3<3<3

Once you reach the top of the staircase, you take stock of your surroundings. You’re in a relatively unfamiliar and little used section of the castle, one that you had only walked through maybe twice before during your initial exploration of the grounds when you had first arrived. The hallway is sparsely lit, with only every third torch on the wall illuminated, and you can see alcoves with openings overlooking the Grand Hall periodically. 

Along the other side of the hallway are darkened rooms, that you remember as being mainly unused guest bedchambers and seldom frequented galleries. Walking slowly down the hallway, you peer into each room as you pass by, scanning the perimeter for a Techno-shaped shadow. 

The third room you look into, you find success.

Moonlight spills through the bay windows, silhouetting your betrothed in silver light where he stands, with his back to you, in front of the window.

You must make some sort of sound, because Techno turns abruptly to face you. The moon now backlighting him, he almost looks like he’s glowing, the light glinting off of his crown making the golden metal appear closer to a silvery halo. His eyes stand out, intense in their scarlet glow against the shadowed silhouette of the rest of his face.

The two of you maintain eye contact for a breathless moment before Techno turns to face the window again, still silent. You slowly begin approaching him, the sound of your footfalls against the stone floor echoing loudly in the otherwise silent room.

You reach Techno’s side a minute later, but he keeps his eyes cast forward out the window. Standing next to him, not touching, but close enough together that you can feel his body heat to your right, you also allow your gaze to wander over the view outside of the window. This section of the palace overlooks the cliffs on the far East of the castle grounds, which you can just make out the shape of in the moonlight. Beyond that, the ocean stretches, dark and cold, into the horizon; the moonlight glinting off of the surface of the water illuminates the occasional ice floe, stark white against the surrounding water. 

Beside you, Techno lets out a sigh. “Why are you here, Starling?” he asks, tone weary.

“I came to make sure you were okay,” you reply evenly, despite the anxiety crawling inside of your chest.

He scoffs. "Of course I'm okay. It's nothing that I haven't heard before."

"That doesn't make it okay though," you counter gently. 

He returns his gaze to the window, and silence reigns supreme over the two of you once again. 

“Aren’t you going to ask about it?” Techno says suddenly, quite abrupt in his delivery.

“Ask about what?”

“What he said back there. About me burning cities and slaughtering masses. Surely you’re curious about how true all of that was.”

“Techno,” you place your hand on his arm, and he finally looks you in the eye, “I won’t ask about it if you don’t want me to. I’ll wait as long as you need me to, until you’re ready to tell me about your past on your own terms.”

The two of you stare at each other for a minute, no words exchanged. Music starts up again in the ballroom and drifts, just barely audible, to your ears.

Techno clearly hears it too; his eyes flick over to the doorway for a moment, then back to you. A conflicted expression briefly passes over his face, before it smooths back out into his typical impassive face.

Before you can even open your mouth to ask him what that was about, he’s moving to the center of the room and thrusting an open hand towards you. You stare at it for a moment, bewildered, before raising your eyeline to meet his.

With a faint blush on his cheeks, Techno abruptly says, “Dance with me.”

You blink. Then, slowly, you approach him and take his hand.

He immediately sweeps you into his arms, beginning a slow swaying to the faint chords of the violin drifting up from downstairs. The two of you fall into rhythm just as easily as you had at the start of the night, but with a few key differences this time around.

You’re standing much closer to him than propriety would typically allow now, and his hand is resting far lower on your back than it was when you started the night. The exposed skin there tingles where his fingers rest, hot like a brand, against your back. 

Tentatively, you bring your head down to rest against Technoblade’s shoulder, relaxing your body against him. His hand briefly tightens against your back, before he relaxes and shifts to accommodate more of your body weight. Your legs are brushing together each time you sway to either side, practically intertwined with how close together you are; you can hear Techno’s heartbeat underneath your ear, steady and strong, albeit a bit fast. 

“I have a scar,” Techno begins haltingly, a minute or so later, “in the center of my chest. I got it during the ritual that the cult did to summon the Blood God. I almost died– I did die, except the Blood God brought me back. He chose me as His champion. His Vassal.”

He pauses for a moment, taking a couple of deep, shuddering breaths. You can do nothing but burrow deeper into his chest, rubbing small, soothing circles on his back as best you can. 

Techno presses on after a minute, though it seems as though it takes him much more effort than usual to maintain his usual expressionless tone. “Time gets a little… weird for me, for the next little bit. It’s a pretty big adjustment, having a God inside your head all the time. I did a lot of stuff at that point, because the cult wanted me to. They were trying to build the Blood God’s strength back up, and to do that, they needed a lot of blood, and since I was his vassal, it had to be me that did it. I… I killed a lot of people.”

“Did you want to?” you can’t help but ask, internally wincing almost as soon as the words have left your mouth. Techno seems to take it in stride though.

Sighing deeply into your hair, he says, raw honesty evident in his voice, “I’m not certain. Our thoughts and desires were all… jumbled up during that time, Him and me. I have a hard time picking apart which were the things He wanted and the things I wanted. They’re really one and the same.”

“It got easier, to tell things apart as the Blood God grew stronger,” Techno continues on, almost as though he’s trying to reassure you, “and it got so that he and I could have actual conversations in my head as two separate entities shortly before Manifestation,” Techno laughs faintly here, but it isn’t a happy sound. “He uh… wasn’t too happy, both with how the cult were treating me, and with what He saw in my memories of how all this came to be. The last thing He did before Manifesting in His own separate, Godly form was commandeer my body to slaughter them all with Divine strength.”

He takes another shuddering breath, and you can’t help but interrupt. “You don’t have to tell me anything, Tech.” 

“No, I want to,” he counters, “You deserve to know.” 

When it becomes clear to him that you aren’t going to say anything more, he continues on, voice a little steadier now, “I wandered for a little while after the Manifestation and subsequent massacre. After Manifesting, the Blood God kinda just… left me to my own devices, although I still bear His mark, and I can channel His power in certain situations, if He deems it worthy. It’s come in handy a few times, although I shudder to think what may have happened if I had ever lost His favour.

“I tried to find my way home after everything, but I never was great with directions, and I wound up getting picked up by some nobel from the Kingdom of Hypixel, who brought me in to be a gladiator in the Capital. That’s actually where I met Phil.”

“What about Wilbur and Tommy?” you ask, and Techno chuckles. “They came along a little later on, after we had already started the Empire.”

“Oh yeah, how did that happen, anyways?”

“Ahaha….” he laughs awkwardly, “Uh, Phil and I…. kinda overthrew a government?”

You move to pull away slightly to look up at his face, eyebrows raised, though his hand tight on your back makes it hard to pull away more than a few inches. He smiles at the look on your face, and is quick to continue with his story, gently pulling your head back to his chest.

“Phil and I met in the Gladiator ring. Our quarters in the fighter’s wing were next to each other, so we became friends almost out of necessity. The fighters… weren’t treated super well, and we got to talking about how unfair it was, and next thing I knew we were recruiting the other gladiators to our cause and starting a rebellion throughout the Capital.”

“Okay, but that doesn’t explain how you ended up the Emperor of an Empire.”

You try to pull back to look into his eyes again, but his hand holds your head to his chest this time around. Still, he’s quick to elaborate in answer to your claim, so you allow yourself to relax back against him. 

“Turns out, the King and the rest of the upper crust weren’t just unkind to us fighters; they were unkind to pretty much all of the citizens that they viewed as lower class. So, the people were actually pretty happy to have somebody else take over. I became kind of… an icon? For the rebellion? Like, a rallying figure.”

Silence falls for a beat. The string quartet down in the ballroom hits a crescendo, but you and Techno never change the gentle speed of your swaying.

“I didn’t really want to be in charge once the dust settled. I mean, you know me, I hate people, and socializing, and that’s like, half of this job at the end of the day. But Phil talked me into staying, and now here I am.”

You giggle a bit at his tone at the end, asking, “What did he have to say to you to convince you of that?”

Techno chuckles into your hair for a moment, before letting out a sigh. “He convinced me that expanding the Empire and annexing towns with the resources we had would be a more effective way to look for you than me searching on my own.”

Your breath catches in your throat. “What?” you breathe out.

“Did you think there would be another reason? I never forgot the promise I made you. The only reason I ever kept going was the thought of seeing you and my parents again.”

“Did you ever find your parents?” you can’t help but ask. You hadn’t seen them in years at this point, not since your family had moved away about a year and a half after Techno’s disappearance. You hoped that they were well.

Techno’s grip tightens around you. “Yeah, we uh. We found them.” His voice doesn’t sound happy when he says this, and you feel your stomach drop.

“What happened?”

“We got there too late. The whole town was rubble by the time Phil and I arrived on scene. We had allied with another faction for this battle, and their commander had instructed them to burn everything to the ground.” 

There’s a shuddering exhale against your hair, but Techno’s voice is as steady as ever when he continues to speak. “I found my parents’ bodies in the ruins of the bookstore. I was just too late to save them.”

“Oh, Tech–” you begin, but he barrels right on, speaking over you for the first time that night. His grip on you is almost painful, it's so strong.

“I went to your house next, and there was nothing there but ruins. I was so convinced I had lost you–”

“Techno you’re hurting me.”

He lets go of you as though he’s been burned, quickly backing away and keeping his eyes on the floor. The music has stopped in the Grand Hall, leaving only the sound of your breathing in its wake.

You take a hesitant step towards him, and Techno flinches. 

“My family moved away,” you say softly, “a little over a year after I lost you.”

He nods his head, swallowing audibly, and adds, “I know. Alex- the guy my parents hired to help out in the bookstore?- survived, and I ran into him. He let me know that you weren’t living there anymore.”

You take another step forward, and reach out to cup his face in your hand. He keeps his eyes on the floor, breath still uneven. 

You place your other hand on his face, and gently force his head up until he meets your eyes. 

“Look at me,” you command, “I’m right here okay? I’m not going anywhere. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Techno clutches at one of your hands like a lifeline. “Gods, Starling. When I thought I had lost you… I’ve never experienced anything worse in my life. Any and all suffering I had faced with the cult, in the fighting rings, all of it paled in comparison to how it felt to think that I would never see you again.”

He reaches out his other hand to cup your cheek, and you turn your face to press a kiss to the inside of his palm. In response, he hooks his hand on the back of your neck and draws you close once again, but in an inverse of your earlier position, with his head buried in the crook of your shoulder, hands now clutching at your back.  

In response, you pet his hair as best you can with the updo it’s in, murmuring reassurances into his ear. 

After a minute, he pulls back, eyes shiny in the dim moonlight. “I love you,” he says, his gaze boring into you and leaving you breathless. 

“I love you too,” you manage to force out past the lump in your throat. Techno smiles, wider than you’ve seen since you were children, and you can’t help but let out a breathless giggle. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, and you can do nothing but nod, butterflies crawling up your throat as he leans down slowly to press his lips against yours.

Throwing away any sense of decorum you may have had remaining, you push yourself up onto your tiptoes and deepen the kiss, tangling your fingers into Techno’s hair with no regard for his updo any longer. 

He pulls away from you after a long moment, both of your chests heaving. 

“Again,” you say, already moving back towards his lips. He breathes the barest hint of a laugh against your lips before indulging you once again.

You lose some time here, pressing kiss after kiss against Techno’s lips, his cheeks, his neck, wherever you can reach. You must have moved at some point, though you don’t remember when, because you find yourself pressed up against the bay window, legs wrapped firmly around Techno’s waist, hands still in his hair, with his arms resting on either side of your head, caging you in. The glass is freezing against your back, but Techno’s body feels like fire every place he’s touching you.

He brings his head down into the crook of your neck, and his breath against the sensitive skin there makes you shiver, legs instinctively tightening around him.

“Gods, Starling,” Techno groans into your neck, before placing a soft kiss to the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. When your hand tightens in his hair at the feeling, he does it again. And again, open-mouthed this time, before sucking some of the skin into his mouth and biting down. 

He’s going to leave a mark, you think somewhat dizzily through the haze of pleasure, and heat pools in the bottom of your stomach at the thought. Your eyes flutter closed around a whine, head tilting unconsciously further to the side to give him more room.

There’s a thud from near the entrance of the gallery.

Almost before you’ve registered what’s happening, Techno has pulled away from you and turned around, your body shielded behind him. He has his sword drawn and held steady in a defensive position, but when no threat immediately makes itself apparent, he relaxes minutely, sword lowering down next to him, though still cautiously on guard.

“Who’s there?” Technoblade calls out, voice echoing slightly, “Show yourself!”

Nothing. 

“As the Emperor of the Antarctic Empire, I demand that you show yourself now. If you have no malicious intentions, I promise that no harm will come to you.”

You hold your breath, but as a few long moments pass by with no ominous figures emerging from the shadows, you relax, draping your arms around Techno’s neck and pressing your body against his back to speak into his ear. “Looks like it was nothing.”

He hums at your words, but doesn’t turn around, eyes still scanning over the darkness of the room.

Pouting slightly at being ignored, you take Techno’s earlobe between your teeth, smirking when you hear his breath hitch.

“Starling…”

“What?” you say, trying to keep your grin out of your voice.

Techno sighs deeply, put upon, but he’s smiling when he rearranges your bodies so that you’re face to face. He still doesn’t turn his back to the door, you note, choosing to move you both so that your sides are to the door. 

He presses a kiss to your cheek. “I have to go check it out. I’ll be right back.”

“Do you have to?” you ask, winding your arms around his neck again, practically hanging off of him. 

He rolls his eyes, jostling you gently until you relent and let him go. “It’s probably nothing,” he replies, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand in a silent apology, “but I still need to make sure. For my peace of mind, if nothing else.”

“Fine,” you sigh dramatically, though your besotted expression betrays your true feelings.

“Stay right here, okay?” Techno tells you, “I’ll be right back.”

You lean your back against the window again, as Techno vanishes into the darkness. 

Thinking back over the past little while, you can’t help the swoop in your stomach as a giddy smile overtakes your face. 

Almost in a daze, you move to press against the mark you’re sure is forming on your neck, suppressing another shiver as the dull ache pulses pleasantly against the pressure.

Maybe you could convince Techno to head back to his bedroom once he got back. As attractive as it was that he could support your whole body weight standing up, you imagined that this would be even more fun laying down….

You’re broken from your reverie by the sound of shattering glass.

An unfamiliar pair of arms wraps around your body from behind. You struggle against them as hard as you can, letting out a single scream before a cloth is covering your mouth and nose. Instinctively, you inhale, smelling something cloyingly sweet.

Your vision begins to turn dark around the edges, head lolling as the stranger adjusts their hold on you into something more secure.

The last thing you see before your vision blacks out entirely is Techno's horror-stricken face in the gallery doorway.

Wind rushes through your hair, almost soothingly, as your assailant falls backwards out the window. You take what little comfort you can from the sensation, as you finally succumb to unconsciousness.

Wilbur shivered as he walked through the streets, leading his horse beside him. Spring was just barely beginning, so the world was still covered in a thick layer of snow up this far north, and the biting wind coming down off of the mountain sent a chill right through to his bones, despite the many layers he was wearing. 

He was here on a desperately needed supply run for his family's homestead on the other side of the mountain. This was the nearest town to their isolated farm, however it was only accessible during the warmer months– the depths of winter making passage over the mountain essentially a death sentence. Wilbur's brother, Technoblade, had made the last trip out for supplies nearly four months ago at the end of the fall, and the family had had to rely on their own preserves and what he had brought back in order to make it through the winter.

The first signs of spring had only just begun to show themselves, although the season was far from fully arrived, winter's icy claws still very much sunk into the earth. But, the world had thawed just enough to allow safe passage over the mountain, and Wilbur's father had decided that it was up to him to travel the treacherous path over the mountain and into town for the desperately needed supplies.

Wilbur, as it were, was not particularly pleased with this decision.

"Why do I have to be the one to go?" Wilbur cried out, affronted. "Why can't Techno do it? Or Tommy?"

Phil sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I need Techno here to help me move those trees that fell across one of the fields. And Tommy is fifteen, I'm not sending him over the mountain by himself at his age."

"I could do it, I'm a big man!" Tommy chimed in from where he was hanging upside down over the arm of the couch.

"Absolutely not," their father replied, tone firm, "Wilbur will be going, and that is final."

And so here Wilbur was, half frozen but alive, thankfully.

His dad had made life easy for him, at least, having placed part of the order ahead via messenger bird at the general store. All Wilbur had to do was pick it up in two days time. In the interim, he could purchase the list of requests from the rest of his family, and some things for himself. He was in desperate need of new strings for his guitar, currently slung over his back; Tommy had requested more wool with which to make sweaters and scarves, as well as other sewing supplies, and sweets you could only pick up in town; Techno had left him a long list of new books he wanted to read, and had sent along his 2nd favourite axe for repairs at the blacksmith's; and Phil had only asked that he pick up more of the good paper and some ink from the stationers–maybe he should grab some pencils too, just to be safe. 

As Wilbur planned out his best route to get everything done the next day, he and the family horse made their way slowly towards the inn where he would be staying. Deep in thought, a sudden flash of colour in his periphery caught his eye. 

Shaking himself out of his head, Wilbur turned to look towards whatever it was that caught his attention. Laying eyes upon it, his heart stopped.

Standing before him was the most gorgeous girl he had ever seen. The flash of colour he had noticed was a bright blue ribbon tied into her long hair. It was really the only embellishment on her person. Her skirt was a simple thing, deep blue to match the ribbon. Her shoes were practical boots, her travelling cloak black and lined with fur. 

As Wilbur watched, she made her way into the inn, and he scrambled to follow, entranced. Stopping quickly by the stables, passing off the reins and a few coins to the stablehand, he raced back towards the main entrance to the building.

Upon entering the inn, Wilbur's eyes scanned the room quickly, searching for the girl. He quickly spotted her sitting at one of the tables over in the dining area, and he began to make his way towards her. His quest to speak to the mysterious beauty was interrupted, however, but the sound of his name from the front desk.

"Wilbur!" Jack, his old friend, called out from behind the check in desk, "Wasn't expecting to see any of you lot for a few more weeks! How did your family fare through the winter? You'll take the usual room?"

"Yeah, thanks mate. We're doing well, I'm just here for a couple of days on a supply run. Mountain's just barely thawed enough to traverse, but it'll improve from here on out."

Jack hummed in acknowledgement, before adding, "I'll go grab your keys, just a moment," and vanishing into the staff area. 

Wilbur took that moment to turn back to the girl, to find her already looking at him. She smiled as their eyes met, and Wilbur was rooted to the spot. As he continued to watch, the girl stood and made her way towards him. 

Just as she was getting within arm's reach, Jack returned with the keys to Wilbur's room. Her shoulder just barely brushed against Wilbur's arm as she passed him by, and goosebumps immediately raised up on his skin at the gentle touch.

Choosing to ignore Jack for a moment, Wilbur followed the girl's figure with his eyes as she made her way across the rest of the room to the staircase leading to the sleeping quarters, casting one last shy smile over her shoulder at him before ascending the stairs out of sight. 

"Here's your keys, Wil, sorry about the wait– Wilbur?" 

Shaking his head and refocusing on the moment, Wilbur turned back to face Jack. "Jack. Who was that?"

"The girl who just walked past us?" Jack winced. "That's Old Man McGowan's daughter." 

Wilbur's heart sank at the words. 

Everyone knew Old Man McGowan, even a relative outsider like Wilbur. He owned a homestead a couple miles outside of town, and he was known for his harsh behaviour towards everyone, regardless of station. The only exception to this, or so Wilbur had heard, was his fair young daughter, whom he was fiercely protective over. 

There were rumours that the man had threatened, or even shot, every man who had ever tried to court his daughter. 

Wilbur had never seen the girl before now, but word around town was that she was perhaps the most exquisite creature to have ever walked the earth. He supposed he could confirm the truth in that statement now.

"Be careful with that one, Wil," Jack's voice once again snapped him out of his head, "I'm dead serious. Her most recent suitor– you remember James, the blacksmith's apprentice?-- ended up with a bullet in his thigh after McGowan heard he was planning on asking her to go out with him. He hadn't even asked her yet, she never said yes, just did it as kind of a preemptive thing, I suppose. Nobody actually saw him do it, or course, but James left town after that to live with some family a couple hours south, so pretty much everyone believes it was him. They're bad news, the both of them."

"Thanks for the advice, Jack, I'll keep that in mind." He was going to disregard that advice so fast. "Gonna go drop my things off now though, we can catch up some more later."

Wilbur hauled his bags up the stairs to his room and settled in quickly. He propped his guitar case up in the corner, flinging his satchel of clothes and supplies onto the table before collapsing onto the bed with a sigh. After laying there for a few minutes, he heaved himself up, making his way towards the communal bathrooms to freshen up. 

Wilbur showered quickly, taking a moment to savour the hot water before washing himself, then towelling dry. He put on some fresh clothes, making his way out of the bathroom as he buttoned his shirt, once again deep in his own head. It wasn't too late in the day, just past 3pm, if he hurried he could drop Techno's axe off at the blacksmith's before dinner time, then–

His train of thought was abruptly derailed as he collided with another figure in the hallway. 

Reaching his hands out on reflex to steady the other person, Wilbur looked down to see exactly who it was he had run into. His heart started beating overtime when he once again laid eyes on that blue ribbon, and eyes to match. 

"So sorry," he rushed to get out, "are you alright?" 

The girl's cheeks were absolutely on fire with a deep blush, eyes flicking up to make contact with Wilbur's own, then down to… his chest. Where his shirt was still half unbuttoned. Suddenly, Wilbur's cheeks felt just as hot as he was sure hers did.

"I'm Wilbur," he blurted out abruptly, any charisma he might normally have had abandoning him in light of the current situation. "What's your name?"

Still blushing wildly, the girl introduced herself. "Y/N."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Y/N" he replied, eyes still locked onto hers. They stood for a moment, just looking at each other, before a muffled shout came from down the hallway, sounding like it may have been her name.

Immediately, Y/N's eyes flickered away from Wilbur's. "That was my father. I need to go," she said softly, suddenly sounding exhausted. 

"O-of course," Wilbur replied, "Sorry for keeping you." He moved to the side, pressing against the wall to allow her the space to pass him by. She flitted past him, eyes on the floor, before abruptly pausing and whirling back around to face him.

"Do you know Don Campbell's fields?" she asked him. Wilbur nodded in response; he remembered running around Campbell's cornfield with his brothers when they were younger. The man was very easygoing, and didn't mind the village children playing in his fields so long as they didn't destroy the plants, making it a popular place to hang out, and for young couples to meet for dates.

Another call of her name sounded down the hallway, louder this time.

"Meet me there tonight, after moonrise." Her face was serious, eyes boring into Wilbur's. She smiled slightly as she added, "Bring your guitar." 

And then she was gone.

~o0O0o~

Wilbur passed the remainder of the day in a daze, floating on a cloud of hazy anticipation. He could barely believe that the most gorgeous girl he had ever laid eyes on wanted to meet with him. Him! He could barely find the decorum to keep from grinning wildly for the rest of the day. 

He did end up stopping by the blacksmith with Techno's axe, and he spent some time just wandering about the streets in the dying light of the setting sun, noting any changes from the previous summer when he had last visited. He meandered his way back to the inn for dinner, taking a seat at a table in the corner to eat his stew. 

As he ate, Wilbur cast his eyes slowly around the room, taking in the other guests. It wasn't very busy, which made sense considering the time of year– two men at the bar that looked like they might be travelling salesmen, and a woman dressed in travelling clothes being the only others in the room. 

His eyes flickered to the stairwell at the sound of footsteps growing louder. 

And there was Y/N, looking even more breathtaking in the flickering candlelight of the inn's interior. Wilbur tried not to stare too obviously, especially considering that her father was at her side, levelling a glare at anyone who had the misfortune of catching his eye. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Wilbur watched the pair settle at a booth opposite him. McGowan stood aside, allowing his daughter to slide into the bench against the wall first, before sitting down next to her, essentially boxing the girl in. She looked very small, sitting there next to him. 

As the barmaid came over to take their order, Wilbur observed the situation quietly. McGowan spoke very curtly to her, giving both his own and his daughter's order. Y/N, for her part, sat silently, eyes on the table. 

Wilbur finished his meal and left the price of his meal, plus enough to tip the barmaid on the table and made his way back towards his room.

As he passed by, he briefly made eye contact with Y/N, giving her a very small smile as he passed by. 

Arriving back onto his room, Wilbur sat on the bed with a sigh. After a moment's thought, he picked up his guitar and began to tune it. Might as well be prepared for later tonight.

Once finished with the instrument and set it aside, he paced around the room for a few minutes, nervous anticipation brewing under his skin. Eventually, Wilbur found himself laying back on the bed, watching out the window for the moon to appear over the trees. 

It was just a waiting game at this point. Wilbur settled himself in for the long haul. 

~o0O0o~

Finally, after an agonizing hour and a half wait, Wilbur spotted the soft light of the full moon begin to peek up above the treeline. 

He practically sprang from the bed where he'd been reclining. Throwing on his thick coat and other outdoor gear, barely remembering to sling his guitar case over his shoulders, he threw on his boots and then headed towards the door.

Moving quietly as to not disturb any other guests, Wilbur made his way to the front door and out into the quiet streets. 

It was a clear night, with a full moon and a sky full of stars casting a gentle, white light over the town and surrounding countryside. But, it was even colder now that the sun had set, the wind cutting through Wilbur's layers like they weren't even there. He shivered, huddling further into his coat collar, and hurried his steps towards Campbell's fields. 

Upon arriving, Wilbur faltered in his steps a bit, unsure. Should he go in? Had he beat her here? Eventually, he settled in to wait leaning up on one of the fence poles near the gate, staring up at the sky. It was a little more sheltered from the wind here, at least, with trees lining the road across from the fields, and the pale stalks of last season's corn still standing in the field next to him.

It wasn't long before he heard footsteps come crunching down the rocky path. Looking away from the stars, Wilbur set his eyes on something even more breathtaking than the cosmos.

Y/N approached him quickly, clutching her cloak close to her body as an attempt to shield herself from the cold. If he had thought that the flickering candlelight suited her well, then she was absolutely made to be under the moonlight. Her skin almost seemed to glow in the pale light, her hair shining where it had been cast down about her shoulders. 

"Fancy seeing you here," he greeted once she was standing in front of him. She offered a smile in return, shivering slightly and drawing her cloak even closer around her. 

He offered out his arm. "Shall we?" Y/N nodded her head, slipping her arm into his. The two of them began a lazy circuit around the perimeter of the field.

Conversation started out pretty awkward and stilted, but pretty soon Wilbur and Y/N had settled into an easy and light "getting-to-know-you" type chat. He spoke about the mischief he and his brothers got up to, while she explained what it was like living and helping out around her father's homestead. 

Wilbur had had a potential destination in mind since they started walking– an old fir tree his family used to picnic under. He hoped that it was still there, and that his memory hadn't failed him in recalling how to get there. 

After another couple minutes of walking, chatting and laughing, the tree came into sight, so Wilbur gently began to guide them towards it. The bench was still there, he noted, though looking a little worse for wear than what he remembered. Still, it appeared sturdy enough, and held their weight as the pair settled atop of it.

Y/N's cheeks were flushed pink from the cold, but she was smiling so sweetly up at him. Her eyes widened as he slung his guitar case off of his back, a look of pure delight spreading across her face. "You actually brought it," she said happily, "Oh, I love music. Will you play me a song?"

"That was kind of the whole point of me bringing it, darling," Wilbur replied, unable to stop the pet name falling from his lips. Although, based on the way her pink flush deepened, he didn't think Y/N was opposed to it. 

Quickly double checking his tuning, Wilbur then began to play. Y/N's eyes quickly drifted closed, and she began to sway to the melody, a peaceful expression taking over her face. He continued to play for as long as he could, moving from one song to the next, until he reluctantly drew the piece to a close.

"I'm afraid I can't feel my fingers any longer, my dear," he explained regretfully to Y/N as her eyes fluttered open, setting his guitar back into the open case on the ground. Her eyebrows furrowed in concern, and she grabbed his hands from where they were resting on his lap to clutch them to her chest. Suddenly, his face felt hot.

"Is that a little better?" she asked him, looking up to meet his eyes. Wilbur could do nothing but nod, voice dying in his chest. 

They sat like that a minute, just looking at each other, until a sudden gust of wind made them both shiver. "I suppose we should be heading back." Her voice sounded regretful as she spoke. As much as he hated it, Wilbur had to agree. 

The began making their way back towards the inn, once again arm in arm, much slower than when they had approached the fields. 

"You mentioned that you're from the other side of the mountain. How long will you be in town for?"

"Just the next three days, I'm only here to pick up some supplies that we can't get anywhere else."

"... I see."

Conversation dwindled out after that, but the silence was comfortable. 

After a few moments, Wilbur noticed Y/N was huddling a little closer to his side, shivering faintly. "Are you cold, darling?" he asked, stopping in place and using their attached arms as leverage to turn her to face him.

She shrugged. "Maybe a little bit. We'll be back soon enough, I'll be alright."

Making a small noise of dissatisfaction, Wilbur began unwinding his scarf from around his neck. Y/N watched him, visibly surprised, her lips slightly parted. 

As he began winding the scarf around her neck, he noted that she looked very deep in thought. After a couple more seconds, she hesitantly spoke up.

"Hey Wil. Can I… ask you something?"

He hummed in acknowledgement, busy trying to get the scarf to lay the way he wanted it to around her neck.

"I– um. I was wondering… when you," She inhaled deeply, albeit a little shakily, and brought one of her hands up to grasp at his. Startled, he met her eyes, dead serious under the pale light of the moon. 

"Please, take me with you when you go home." 

Wilbur blinked, startled. 

Taking his silence as her cue to continue, Y/N pressed onwards. " My father… you saw him at dinner. He isn't a kind man. He's very possessive of me. He won't allow me to spend time with anyone in town or make friends, let alone try and find love; he's threatened anyone brave enough to try." Wilbur watched, heart aching, as she flicked her gaze downwards, eyes filled with tears. And still, she continued on. 

"I thought that I would be content waiting for him to die in order to be able to live my life, but then today I saw you and… something just snapped inside me. I really just… I can't live like this anymore." Y/N looked back up at him, eyes shining, two trails of tears gently running down her cheeks, "Please. Please, Wilbur. I just– I can't–" her sentence devolved as she continued to cry.

"Hey, okay, that's alright darling, of course I'll take you home with me," Wilbur soothed, "You won't ever have to worry about him again." 

He opened his arms slowly, not wanting to move too quickly and spook her. "C'mere, darling." He slowly wrapped himself around her, pulling her gently into his chest. She tensed up for a moment, before relaxing into it and returning his embrace, pushing further into his chest and gripping the back of his coat tightly. In return, Wilbur adjusted his hold slightly, one hand coming up to card through her hair, pressing a soft kiss to Y/N's hairline as he moved to rest his head atop of hers. 

Slowly, Y/N's breathing evened out as she calmed down and stopped crying. She shifted in his hold as though pulling away, and Wilbur let her move back slightly, though he did keep his arms locked around her waist in a gentle hold.

"Thanks for that," she said quietly, still sniffling slightly. 

He smiled. "Of course, darling. Now, shall we continue on?"

They began walking again, although this time instead of linking arms, Wilbur kept Y/N held firmly against his body with an arm around her waist. She snuggled in close to him, a contented sigh leaving her lips. 

Once the lights of the town came into view, Y/N reluctantly pulled away from his embrace. "We'll have to head the rest of the way back separately. My father may have waited up for me, and we absolutely can't be seen together." 

Nodding his assent, Wilbur raised her hand up to his lips, gently kissing the back of it. Her face erupted in a deep red blush.

"Same time and place tomorrow?" he offered. 

She smiled, just a small thing. "I'd really like that." Slowly, she unwound his scarf from around her neck. Stepping up closer and raising up onto her toes to reach, she slung the piece of fabric around him. Pausing quickly and taking a breath, almost as though psyching herself up, Y/N then leaned up as high as she could and pressed a soft kiss against Wilbur's cheek. 

He blinked in surprise feeling the flush move across his face and down his neck. He no longer felt cold at all, but rather, quite warm.

"See you tomorrow, Wil," she said softly, giving him one last smile. She walked backwards away from him, continuing to hold his hand until the last possible second before letting it drop.

And then she finally turned, and vanished into the darkness. 

Wilbur stood there for a moment, just savoring the last few seconds of the night. He brought his scarf up to his face; it smelled, just slightly, of Y/N's perfume. 

He began to make his way back to the inn, taking a longer route through town to avoid arriving at the same time as Y/N. Once there, he crept quietly through the main floor and back up to his room, before collapsing in the bed, still in his outdoor gear. 

A wide grin overtook Wilbur's face as he thought back over the last few hours. He let out a breathless little giggle, before heaving himself up to get ready for bed.

He couldn't wait for tomorrow night.

~o0O0o~

Wilbur awoke to sunlight on his face in the morning. Sitting up quickly, he grabbed a piece of bread from the loaf he had brought from home for breakfast, quickly finishing it and starting to get ready for the day.

Time seemed to pass simultaneously very quickly and syrupy slow as Wilbur made his way around town, completing various errands. 

He stopped in at the stationer and picked up paper and ink, plus some more pencils. He checked in with the blacksmith about Techno's axe. He spent some time in the stables, taking care of the family horse. He picked out some thread and yarn for Tommy at the tailor's shop, and also grabbed the boy some chocolates at the patisserie. He picked up two new packs of strings for his guitar from the specialty shop.

Having finished most of his errands, and electing to leave the bookstore for the next day, Wilbur opted to spend a few coins on some cured meat from the butcher's to tide him over until dinner. He wandered the streets aimlessly as he ate, enjoying the faint warmth of the pale sunlight as it glinted off the snow. Already, it was starting to set behind the mountain, casting long shadows of the peak over the town.

He'd barely even seen a glimpse of Y/N today, he noted. Every time he caught sight of her, she was accompanied by her father, looming over her shoulder like a foreboding sort of shadow. His hulking form next to her made her appear very small. Wilbur was afraid to even look at her too long, let alone attempt to make eye contact, just in case McGowan took issue with it. 

Eventually, Wilbur headed back to the inn to have dinner, then back up to his room to wait for moonrise once again. Once he saw the moonbeams come up over the rooftops, he took the same route to Campbell's fields as he had the day before. 

The night passed in much the same way as the previous one had, although this time instead of idle chatter, Wilbur and Y/N spent most of their time together planning how, exactly, they were going to smuggle her out from under her father's thumb.

"I think we should leave at night, while my father is sleeping," Y/N said, snuggling further into Wilbur's chest where she was tucked under his arm. "Makes us less likely to get caught."

They were once again seated on the bench underneath the fir tree, but this time, instead of playing his guitar, Wilbur played with Y/N's hair as she rested against him. He had thought ahead and brought along a blanket to wrap around their shoulders and shield them from the cold– that plus their combined body heat made for quite the cozy little sanctuary.

Wilbur hummed in response to Y/N's statement, placing an absent kiss to her forehead. "That's not going to work, unfortunately. Trying to climb the mountain in the dark is practically a death sentence. I'm thinking we'll leave just before dawn. It's about an hour to the foot of the mountain, so it should be getting light out by then, and by the time we're high enough up for it to really be dangerous to fall, it should be light enough to see fairly well."

They again walked arm in arm to the town's edge before parting ways. The two decided not to meet up the next night, giving them both a little extra time to get things ready before their departure the following morning. Y/N once again left him with a kiss, although this time instead of being smack in the middle of his cheek, it was on the very outside corner of his mouth. 

And again, just like yesterday, Wilbur walked back to the inn practically floating on air, and went to bed anticipating the next day. It would be his last full day in town, and then he and Y/N would make their escape, ready to begin their life together properly. He smiled, as he let himself fall asleep.

~o0O0o~

The next day dawned, and Wilbur completed the same morning routine as the previous day, before wandering out into the street to complete the last of his errands. 

It was overcast, with the potential for a late season snow, and Wilbur was grateful that he didn't have to travel today. 

As he was making his way down the main street of the town towards the bookshop, he heard someone calling his name. Turning around to see who it was, he was very surprised to see Y/N, all alone for once.

She hurried up to him, smiling broadly. "Wilbur! I'm so glad I caught you!"

"Y/N? What's going on, where's your father?" Wilbur glanced wildly around, almost expecting the man to jump out of the shadows, wielding his gun. 

Y/N let out a breathless laugh. "He was called home for an emergency with one of our heifers. He opted for me to stay here so that we don't lose our room at the inn. He won't be back until late tonight, he said, so I can spend all day with you! Isn't it wonderful?" 

Wilbur couldn't help but let himself become completely engulfed in her enthusiasm, picking her up and spinning her around with a broad grin. "It really is wonderful, darling. I have to finish some errands first, though, and then I'm all yours."

"Could I join you on your errands? I promise I won't get in the way," she looked up at him through her lashes as she spoke, and Wilbur was helpless to those eyes. 

"Of course you can, darling. Any extra moment with you is a welcome addition to my day." He raised the back of her hand to his lips for a kiss, before offering his arm to her to hold. And then, they were off. 

Walking around town with Y/N like a normal young couple felt amazing. They kept up a joking conversation, occasionally bumping shoulders playfully. They swung quickly by the blacksmith's to pick up Techno's axe, and by the general store to pick up Phil's order, both of which they popped into the saddlebags of Wilbur's horse in the stable, before making their way to the bookstore. 

They separated for the first time that day inside of the bookshop, as Wilbur began methodically working his way through the list of books his family had requested with the assistance of the clerk. Y/N, for her part, wandered about the shelves slowly, perusing the titles. 

After close to an hour, he had finally amassed all of the books that he needed. Thanking the clerk profusely, Wilbur turned to find Y/N as the store employee figured out his total. He found her standing not too far away, absolutely engrossed in a book. 

"Are you going to buy that one?" he asked as he came up next to her, slipping an arm around her waist. 

She smiled ruefully up at him. "I can't. Father didn't leave me with very much money, I can't afford it." Sighing softly, Y/N went to place the book back on the shelf, when Wilbur abruptly plucked it right out of her hands. 

Striding quickly across the store, he placed the book on the top of his pile. "Add this one too, please," he said to the clerk, who smiled and nodded, quickly adding the price to the running total. 

"Oh, Wil, you don't have to–" Y/N started to say, before he cut her off. "But I want to. You deserve nice things, darling, this is the least I could do." He smiled at her. 

Blushing faintly, Y/N uttered a quiet 'thank-you', before sliding her arm into his. 

Wilbur quickly slung the satchel full of books over his shoulder, and then they were off once again. 

It was getting close to lunchtime, so they stopped for food at the bakery; Wilbur purchased spinach hand pies for both himself and Y/N, as well as a fruit turnover to share.

They sat on a bench in the town square to eat their lunch. Wilbur was grateful for the break, lugging all those books around was starting to hurt his shoulder. 

"Thank you again for buying lunch, Wil, I really appreciate it," Y/N said, as she finished her half of the turnover. 

"Don't mention it, darling," he replied, "it was my pleasure."

She had a small spot of jam near the corner of her mouth. Wilbur desperately wanted to kiss it off of her, but he refrained due to the public nature of their location. Instead, he opted to bring his thumb up and swipe the jam off, then putting the digit up to his mouth to lick it clean. Y/N followed his thumb with her eyes throughout its journey, transfixed. She was blushing again, Wilbur noted smugly. 

"Anyplace else you wanted to go, my dear?" he asked her, and she shook her head in reply.

They meandered slowly around town, no specific destination in mind. The pair made another stop by the tailor's, where Wilbur purchased a gorgeous new silk ribbon for Y/N's hair, in a stunning shade of scarlet. Ignoring her protests about how 'it's too expensive' and 'really, you don't have to', Wilbur pressed the ribbon into her hands with a small smile, and a gentle murmur of, "I enjoy getting to spoil you, darling."

Just about done in town, but still with a couple of hours until dinner, the pair make their way back to the inn to spend some quiet time inside.

"Would you like to join me in my room? It has a seating area where you could read, if you wanted." Wilbur was uncharacteristically hesitant in asking, not wanting to push too far, too fast.

Almost immediately, his fear was alleviated when Y/N smiled and nodded at him.

They made their way up to his room, Wilbur finally depositing the satchel of books with an audible thud. He quickly dug out the one that Y/N had picked out and handed it to her. She then settled into the loveseat in the corner to begin reading.

For his part, Wilbur pulled out his guitar and his notebook from the case, and began playing around with some chord progressions. 

The room was quiet, aside from Wilbur's gentle music, and filled with a sense of peace. It draped over the pair like a warm blanket, cocooning them in a sense of calm. 

Wilbur's fingers slowed to a stop against the strings of his instrument. He wasn't really making much progress on the song anyways, constantly flicking his eyes up to look at Y/N, before looking away again. At this point, he stopped trying to hide it, and began staring shamelessly. He could practically feel the besotted look taking over his face.

A couple minutes later, Y/N seemed to notice his attention on her– she blinked herself out of her book to return Wilbur's gaze, one eyebrow raised in question.

"You're beautiful," he said. Almost as though compelled by an outside force, he got up and sat next to her on the loveseat, reaching a hand out to cup her cheek.

Y/N leaned into his touch, eyes becoming half-lidded as they looked at each other. After a few moments, Wilbur flicked his eyes down to glance at her lips. Her tongue darted out in response, and he looked back to her eyes just in time to catch her glancing down at his mouth in turn.

Leaning forward slightly, he murmured, "May I?"

"Yes," she breathed in response, and then they finally came together in a kiss.

It started out very sweet, but it didn't stay that way long. Wilbur's hand slid around from Y/N's cheek to the back of her head, where it tangled in her hair. When her lips parted in a gasp, Wilbur took that opportunity to slide his tongue into Y/N's mouth. She rewarded him with a soft hum in the back of her throat as she tentatively began to match the movements of his tongue with her own. 

Things moved very quickly from there.

In a bid to be closer to him, Y/N slung her leg over Wilbur's lap, ending up in a straddle, their bodies pressed together from chest to hips. Wilbur's hands fell to her waist and then trailed lower, as their lips seperated with a wet sound. 

Wilbur's fingers found the edge of Y/N's skirt. "May I?" he asked again, slowly moving his hand under the hem. "You may," she replied, and then leaned in to kiss him again. His fingers trailed up under her skirts to grip at a thigh, thumb stroking back and forth over the soft skin there. 

Y/N's hips shifted. Wilbur's grip tightened. It was stiflingly hot, suddenly.

She did it again, hips moving in tiny little circles against him.

Head tipping back, Wilbur groaned out, "God, Y/N." He moved to attach his lips to her neck in retaliation, sucking softly on the juncture between her neck and shoulder, which caused her to move against him once more, harder this time.

"Ah! Wil–ohh…" 

Something inside of him snapped. Moving both of his hands to the back of her thighs, Wilbur used all of his strength to stand the two of them up, Y/N's legs wrapping around his waist. He swallowed her gasp of surprise with another heated kiss. 

"Is this okay?" he muttered against her lips, taking a step towards the bed.

"Yes, Wil, please!" She tugged at his hair in response. 

It was only a couple of long strides before they were falling into the bed, breath escaping Y/N's lungs as her back hit the mattress.

"Still good?" Wilbur checked in one last time. Y/N nodded, looking absolutely debauched. 

Wilbur took one last moment to admire her underneath him, hair splayed across the pillows, mouth red, cheeks flushed pink, then he let himself fall.

~o0O0o~

Several hours later, Wilbur watched from his place on the bed as a dark mark he had left low on Y/N's collarbone was covered as she re-buttoned the top of her dress. 

They had savoured the little time they had left together for as long as possible, drawing out every moment, until Y/N had to get ready to go back to her own room before her father returned.

"I'll see you tomorrow morning, bright and early," she said to him once she was fully dressed, "and then we'll never have to part like this again."

She walked over to him and pressed a lingering kiss to his lips before slipping out into the hallway. 

Wilbur allowed himself a minute to wallow– he missed her already– before he got up and packed as much as he was able to, making sure he was prepared for a rapid departure in the morning.

Once that was done, he let himself fall into a fitful sleep, thoughts cast ahead to a bright future with his beloved.

~o0O0o~

The next morning saw Wilbur up before dawn, getting everything down to the stables and packed onto his horse. Y/N joined him right as he was finishing up. They added her meager bag of possessions to one of the saddlebags, and then they were all set to go.

He couldn't resist pulling her into a deep kiss– it may have wasted several precious moments of time, but it was worth it. Finally pulling apart to breathe, Wilbur offered out his hand for Y/N, and they started walking. 

Not many words were spoken as they made their way to the base of the mountain, the both of them still half asleep. The only sound was the hoof falls of the horse, echoing through the empty plains around them. The walk still passed fairly quickly, however, and before long they were standing at the bottom, looking up at the craggy peak.

"You ready?" Wilbur asked Y/N. She nodded, a determined look in her eyes.

Dawn was washing over them now, orange streaking along the sky. It lit up the mountain, casting it in a yellow glow that seemed to turn the snowcapped grey stone to molten gold.

As they began their ascent, Wilbur explained the route to Y/N. "This mountain has two summits, technically, both around the same height. We're aiming to head through the center passage between the two. It's a lot faster than trying to go over the peak, or going around the base."

Y/N nodded. "Makes sense. How far from the base is your house?"

"Not very far, thankfully. Soon as we're though the pass, you'll be able to see it."

They were about three quarters of the way to the pass when Wilbur first noticed the strange rumbling sound coming from behind them. To his left, Y/N let out a gasp, looking back towards town.

"It's my father. He's coming this way! We have to go!" 

Wilbur glanced back. And sure enough, there was McGowan, sat astride a horse, heading straight for them, rifle slung over his back.

They quickened their pace, but it wasn't enough. McGowan arrived near the base of the mountain, pulled his rifle down, and took aim.

The first shot missed them wide to the right. The second was closer, but still wide.

"Isn't he afraid he's going to hit you?" Wilbur shouted.

"I don't really think he cares at this point," Y/N yelled back. 

They continued picking their way up, narrowly avoiding the third and fourth shots. If they could make it into the pass, they'd take away his line of sight, Wilbur knew.

"He's only got one shot left in that magazine, we're so close!" Y/N called out. 

He ushered her over a ledge and into the safety of the pass, then encouraged the horse to head in as well. The fifth shot rang out.

Wilbur gritted his teeth, hauled himself up over the ledge, and entered the pass.

"We made it! Oh my God, we actually made it!" Y/N was enthused as she continued deeper into the passage. "He can't shoot us anymore now we're out of view, and it'll take him ages to pick his way up here. We're practically home free!"

She twirled around in celebration, laughing, before glancing over at Wilbur in confusion, where he was still standing right in the entrance to the path.

"Wilbur? We've still got a ways to go, no time to rest yet. Are… are you alright?"

Swallowing heavily, he stumbled forward a few steps to meet her. His hand, which had been gripping his left side, came away covered in blood. 

"Think he got me," Wilbur said, doing his best to smile through the pain, before his knees buckled. Y/N barely managed to catch him.

They stumbled forward a ways, enough to see the bright daylight spilling through the opening to the far side of the mountain. Just a few feet shy of it, Wilbur's foot him a rock and he went down, hard, into a snowdrift. The cold felt nice against the wound, numbing the burning pain some. 

"No, no, Wilbur please, we're so close," Y/N fell to her knees beside him, tugging on his arm, "I'm not strong enough to lift you, you have to help me out here."

Wilbur felt his expression turn up into a gentle smile. He focused on Y/N's tearstained face, reaching up his right hand to cup her cheek.

"You're so beautiful."

Her expression crumpled further. "Wil, c'mon, you gotta get up. You-you gotta…" she trailed off into a sob.

Wilbur moved his hand around to the back of her head and pulled her head down into the crook of his neck. She sobbed against him, nearly wailing, as he pressed gentle kisses to the side of her head. 

Distantly, but growing closer, they could hear someone shouting out her name. 

Wilbur wet his lips. His throat was very dry. "Your father is coming. You need to go."

"Not without you!" Y/N wailed, clutching tighter to the lapels of his coat.

Mustering up his remaining strength, Wilbur braced the arm of his good side against the ground, raising himself up to his elbow and dislodging her grip in the process. He brought his other arm around to once again cup Y/N's cheek in his hand, forcing her to meet his eyes. 

A few moments too late, Wilbur realized that he had smeared blood over her face. From the way she clutched at his hand however, it didn't appear that she noticed or cared. 

"Darling, you need to get a move on before he catches up." 

"I'm not leaving you!" Y/N yelled, face set stubbornly despite her tears. 

Wilbur smiled sadly. "My love, I'm afraid you don't have a choice." 

The shouts were growing louder.

"When you get to my home, I need you to-" Wilbur sucked in a sharp breath, a pained grimace emerging on his face, " I need you to tell my father and brother what happened here today. Tell them where to find me. Don't leave me here alone forever."

Y/N nodded her head, expression full of heartbreak. She leaned to press one last lingering kiss to his lips. Wilbur closed his eyes, savouring the moment. When he opened them again, she was standing up, and grabbing the reins of the horse. 

"Trust him to guide you down the mountain. He knows the way," Wilbur said. Y/N nodded her head. 

She started forward, before stopping to look back. 

"Good-bye, Wilbur," her voice broke, "I love you." 

Wilbur smiled. "I love you too, darling. Now go." 

He kept himself propped up long enough to watch her walk out into the light on the other side of the passage and vanish from his sight, before collapsing back into the snow once more.

He exhaled shakily, a smile on his lips. He finally allowed his eyes to flutter closed. The darkness rushed up to meet him, as his surrounding faded away. 

Still smiling, Wilbur let himself fall.

Did he die? I dunno, you decide!

(Canonically, in the song, yes he did, but you can ignore that if you want...)

God, this thing really took on a life of it's own... It was supposed to be like 3k!! Why am I like this!!